The Phoenix
by thenerdnextdoor
Summary: Kenna Fyrian supposedly has an obsession with fire; but it is much more important to her than a fixation. After a difficult past, she finds herself unable to fully trust any man she comes across - until she meets one that seems to be an exception. Why is it that she feels she can let Edward Nygma of all people in on her secrets? The Riddler/OC
1. Chapter 1

**DISCLAIMER: If I owned anything even remotely to do with Batman, I'd be walking the streets gloating about it, not sitting at home in the dark writing a fanfic.**

* * *

**Chapter 1**

_"Patient interview number one. Patient's name is Kenna Fyrian. This is my first interview with Miss Fyrian, and it is also her first interview here at Arkham Asylum since she was brought in by Commissioner Gordon last week. All I've heard from the guards is that she mainly likes to keep to herself, except on occasions when she takes on a more... flirtatious personality. Hopefully she doesn't take on that attitude with me; I don't want to have to deal with another Ivy," a male voice sighed._

**Click.**

_"Good afternoon, Miss Fyrian. My name is Dr. Roberts. Please, have a seat." There was a rustling and clanking as the patient moved to sit down, placing their cuffed hands on the table. "How are you settling in?" The doctor was met with silence. "Are the other inmates giving you any trouble?" Silence once more. "Some of the newer patients find it hard to accept the situation they're in, perhaps you would be more willing to speak in a few days?" No response. The doctor stifled a sigh. "You know, Miss Fyrian, I'm here to help you – we all are. But I can't help you if you insist on–ˮ_

_"What makes you think I need help?" a cold, female voice asked. It was quiet and laced with the traces of a previously seductive character._

_"Because you were brought here, to an Asylum. Why do __**you**__ think you're here?" the doctor asked curiously._

_There was a long, uninterrupted pause that seemed to last for hours. Then there was another rustle as the patient shifted. "Because some moron figured that since I burn things for money, I'm obsessed with fire and therefore insane."_

_"And you disagree with that."_

_"Obviously."_

_"Why?"_

_There was another pause, shorter this time. "Because I'm not __**obsessed**__ with fire; I merely prefer it. And I'm not insane."_

_"What do you prefer fire over, Miss Fyrian?"_

_"Bombs, ice, guns, knives, fear gas, riddles, batarangs."_

_"I see. Could you explain to me what it is you do with this fire?"_

_"Surely that's in my file, Doc." Her voice was suddenly low and teasing._

_"I want to hear it from you."_

_"Why?" she sighed._

_"It might enable me to help you further."_

_"I don't need your help."_

_"Everyone needs help."_

_"Then I don't __**want**__ your help."_

_There was a sigh. "Miss Fyrian–ˮ_

_"We're done here." The chair squeaked against the floor as the patient stood._

_There was a brief moment of silence, and then another sigh. "Guards!" The door opened._

_"Yeah, Doc?"_

_"You can take her back to her cell now. I'll see you next week, Miss Fyrian."_

_"Patient interview number seven. Patient's name is Kenna Fyrian. I'm starting to think I won't be able to get through to Miss Fyrian. She always tries to avoid my questions by saying something about how ridiculous it is for her to be here, or she just doesn't answer. I'm getting nothing from these interviews except the fact that she doesn't seem to like me or trust me. Perhaps transferring her over to a female doctor would help."_

**Click.**

_"Miss Fyrian, good afternoon. How are you doing today?"_

_"Same as ever, Doc."_

_"And how is that?"_

_"Bored out of my skull and pissed at being locked in a cage like some deranged beast."_

_"Is there anything we could give you to entertain you at all?"_

_"Freedom."_

_"Apart from that, Miss Fyrian."_

_There was a pause. "A lighter."_

_"You would like a lighter?"_

_"Yeah."_

_"I'm afraid that won't be possible. Instead, we could–ˮ_

_"Why not?"_

_"Because it could be dangerous. And with your obs–ˮ the doctor cleared his throat, "– __**preference**__ of fire, we don't know what you'd do with it." He was met with silence. "Today I was hoping we could talk about your crimes, after talking about your childhood didn't work the last time. Would you like to tell me about them?"_

_"What do you want to know?"_

_"Whatever you want to tell me."_

_There was a rustle as the patient shifted into a more comfortable position. "I burn down buildings for money."_

_"What kind of buildings?"_

_"Any. They give me an address and five-hundred bucks, I give them a pile of smoking rubble in return."_

_"Do these buildings often have people inside when you light them on fire?"_

_"I don't know."_

_"Do you __**care**__?"_

_"Not really."_

_"Why?"_

_"I don't know them."_

_"But they are still __**human beings**__, Miss Fyrian. Don't you realise how cruel that is?"_

_There was a loud slam as the patient banged her fist on the table. "Don't talk to __**me**__ about __**cruelty**__, Dr. Roberts," she snapped, her voice dangerous and wavering as she struggled to contain her anger. "You know __**nothing**__ of cruelty."_

_"What do you know of cruelty?"_

_"More than most," came the reluctant reply. It sounded as if she'd calmed down._

_"How?" There was nothing but silence for a good few minutes. "Miss Fyrian, please. I'm not going to judge or criticise you; you can tell me anything. If you want out of here, you're going to have to talk to me so that I can make you better and–ˮ_

_"Make me better?" she repeated in a low tone. "Make me __**better**__?" her voice rose. "I don't need to be made 'better' by some random guy in a white lab coat; I need to be let __**out**__ of here so I can go back to my shitty apartment and my shitty life where I __**belong**__!"_

_"Miss Fyrian, please, calm–ˮ_

_"No! I'm sick and tired of being bossed around by a bunch of moronic bullies like some nerdy kid on the playground! I am a woman of fire, not some deranged lunatic!"_

_"Just let me help you and you can go–ˮ_

_There was a sudden crashing sound as the patient lunged across the table and grabbed the doctor by the collar of his shirt, hoisting him up so that she was right in his face. The door crashed open while the guards shouted at the patient. Over the chaos, one voice could be heard clearly – low, threatening, and deadly. "You listen to me good, Doc. No one can help me – not you, not Arkham, not any other doctor or psychiatrist, not even the goddamn Batman. So shut the hell up about it and move on. When I come back here next week it better be another doctor on the other side of that table or I swear to God I'll send you to the pits of Hell."_

* * *

The guards were unsurprisingly brutal as they tossed me out into the hallway, away from the infuriating doctor. My face was flushed red in anger and rage coursed through my veins, igniting every cell into a blaze of fury. Strong hands grabbed my shoulders and roughly guided me through the passageways of the Asylum, leading me back to my cell, the insults of the guards' bouncing off my ears as I focused on formulating a plan.

I needed to get _out_.

Crimson liquid was dripping out of my nose at a constant rate, I could practically feel the black eye growing, and I would have bruises from the crushing grip the guards had on my arms; but they didn't affect me much. I'd gone through much, _much_ worse and survived – well, barely, but still. The point was they couldn't do anything to me that was worse than anything I'd ever gone through before.

As we got closer and closer to my cell, passing by all the _actually_ deranged men loping around their cells like monkeys, I grew more and more angry. I didn't understand why I had been forced into the tiny room; I knew I wasn't insane. There were things about me that Gordon and his little minions just couldn't understand. I wasn't like the other criminals, I wasn't like the other _humans_ – I was different. But that sure as hell didn't mean I was insane.

There were three guards taking me back to my cell – one was a few paces in front of us, and the other two each had a hold of my arms, walking on either side of me. The guard in front opened my cell and stood waiting for me, and I stopped suddenly, forcing the other guards to copy my movements. "Keep going, bitch," one of them spat, tightening their grip.

I looked at him, studying the hatred and disgust in his eyes as he sneered at me. How were we supposed to get better when the guards treated us like scum all day, every day? They acted like they were the big guys here, despite the fact that a few inmates – mostly Rogues – escaped the asylum at least once a month, beating up a lot of the guards in the process. Even scrawny little Riddler could take these buffoons on.

They needed to be reminded that they weren't as big and bad as they thought.

My head slammed into his, sending him stumbling into the cell behind him where the inmate immediately grabbed on, holding him there. I wasted no time, turning and jumping into the air, twisting my body as my foot connected with the other guard's face, knocking him out cold. The last guard let go of my cell door and took a slow step forward, reaching to his hip to pull out his baton. I jumped into the air again, bringing my knees up to my chest, and brought my cuffed hands underneath my feet to in front of me.

"I'm gonna give you one shot to surrender, woman," the last guard threatened.

I just smirked teasingly, taking a few steps back. The guard being held by the inmate was struggling hopelessly, half-kneeling on the ground, his arms being held back behind the bars. The ceiling was quite low with solid metal pipes running along it, a small gap between the top of them and the concrete above. _Perfect,_ I commented to myself.

The guard started running towards me, holding his baton high. I bolted, using the immobilised guard's knee to give myself a boost as I leapt into the air and grabbed onto one of the pipes. My attacker's eyes widened as he realised what was happening; but he was too close to avoid it. I swung powerfully and my feet slammed into his chest, sending him sprawling backwards onto the floor. I dropped down and ran to him, picking up his baton to smack him over the head with it. His eyes rolled into the back of his head and his eyelids drooped shut, his body going limp.

I turned back to the last guard, seeing him watching me with fearful and panicked eyes. Sauntering up to him, I smirked and crouched down. "Didn't your momma tell you to treat ladies with respect?" My face hardened and I pressed the baton up against his neck, choking him. "Call me a bitch again and I'll burn you alive. Got it?" He spluttered, his face red, and nodded hurriedly in reply. "Good." I stood, and the inmate grabbed the guard's head, slamming it against the metal bars of his cell door. "Thanks," I grinned.

"No problem, girly. You better go now, they'll be sending more guards soon," he replied in a gruff voice.

I didn't need to be told twice.

* * *

I barely made it a few minutes, dodging between several pissed guards and lashing out at most of them, before something hit my back. Burning, paralysing, agonising _pain_ coursed through my entire body, causing me to drop to the floor like a sack of potatoes and lay there jerking, my nerves burnt to a crisp as spasms wracked my form. My head was pounding and my heart was hammering against my ribcage, each beat bringing with it more pain. It lingered, stabbing at every muscle, every bone, every goddamn _cell_ it could find.

I tried my very best to push past it, somehow managing to roll myself onto my stomach, my hands blindly reaching for something, _anything_, to grab onto to help me crawl across the pristine tile floors of Arkham Asylum. I felt rough hands grip my upper arms and pull me to my feet, slamming me against the wall in order to keep me up. My breath was coming out ragged and uneven, and a never-ending darkness was descending onto my vision, leaving me to desperately try to keep my eyelids open.

My blurry and squint gaze flicked onto the group of guards behind me, and I vaguely registered the sound of the electrical rod they sometimes carried over the constant buzzing in my ears. I was roughly flipped around so that my back was slammed against the wall, and my head fell, my neck suddenly unable to support the weight.

When I saw black boots standing before me I forced myself to look up, grunting at the effort, and saw a furious guard glaring at me. Behind him was a small cluster of five others, seemingly guarding some other inmate. The darkness was taking over, pulling me into the depths of the unknown. The last thing I saw was the new inmate's clothes: a deep green suit with back question marks all over it. _Riddler_.

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**So that was the first chapter... I honestly don't know if it's good or what, so if someone could give me feedback - positive or negative, I don't mind - that would be great. **

**Just so you know, it could be a few chapters before Kenna and Edward's relationship starts developing; but please don't let that put you off of the story!**


	2. Chapter 2

**I just want to put the second chapter out there in case the first one wasn't enough of a taster - hopefully now whoever looks at this will know whether they like it or not. If you do, and if you don't, feel free to leave a review so I know what I'm doing right and what I'm doing wrong. I'd really appreciate that.**

**Thanks to 666AnimeFan666 for favouriting this story so early on in the makings! I was tremendously surprised and equally excited that you enjoyed it enough to favourite, so, again, thank you very, very much!**

**Hopefully this next chapter will be as good, if not better, than the first:)**

**DISCLAIMER: Nothing to do with anything Batman-related belongs to me. The only things I own are my Batman jumper, top, and headphones...**

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**Chapter 2**

I woke up on the floor of my cell. My body was stiff and aching as if I'd woken up from a twenty-four-hour-straight workout. It felt as if someone was stabbing my brain repeatedly in three separate locations. I let out an involuntary groan as I rolled over onto my back, stretching out my limbs until I heard the satisfying _crack_. Almost as soon as I felt that satisfaction, it was snatched away from me as sudden exhaustion washed over my limbs and I found myself unable to move. _Uh-oh. This isn't good._

"Hey, Doc, she's up," a deep voice said. I opened my eyes to see a guard standing on the other side of my cell door, a gun ready in his hand as he stood watching me.

"Let me in," a female voice replied, sounding urgent and commanding.

"I don't think it would be a good–ˮ

"Do you have any idea how dangerous it was for the guard to electrocute her at that level? I need to see her _now_."

Reluctantly, the guard took a hold of his walky-talky. "Open up cell number 559." There was an electronic buzz and the clank of the door unlocking. He then looked to me. "Get into the position."

I barely had enough energy to glare at him.

"You fool," the woman snapped, marching past him into my cell where she stopped and turned to look at him. "She doesn't have the energy to escape." She turned back to me, sending me a quick friendly smile, before her face hardened and she knelt down next to me – her professional side clearly overruled her need to comfort, which I was absolutely fine with. I watched her warily as she studied me. "Okay. We've dealt with this kind of thing a few times before. I need to know what's the most you can do."

My lips parted slightly, and I willed myself to speak; but no sound was coming out. I couldn't even move a finger. In the end I settled with a blink.

The woman scowled. "This is ridiculous. A level half the size of what you were struck with would have sufficed. Damn guards." _This is why I trust women easier than men – they are much more kind. _She took the pillow from my bed and lifted my head to put it underneath. "I'm going to ask you some questions about your symptoms, and you're going to answer either 'yes' or 'no'. Two blinks for 'yes', one blink for 'no'. Do you understand?"

I blinked twice.

"Good. Okay. Are you experiencing painful headaches?" I blinked twice again. "Are you feeling dizzy at all?" I blinked once. "Are any of your limbs in pain?" I blinked twice. "Just some limbs?" Once. "Your whole body?" Twice. "Okay. I'm going to subscribe you to a medicine that should take away some of the pain so that you can do the basic things like sit up and lie down. By tomorrow you should be able to do more; but I suggest you remain in bed for at least three days. After that you should be able to move about freely without much pain, and if that's the situation then I'll take you off the medication. If not... we'll just have to cross that bridge when we come to it." She stood and turned to the guard again. "We're not going to leave her lying on her cell floor. Pick her up and lay her on her bed." _Oh hell no! I'd rather suffer that pain ten times over than let him come near me in this state of vulnerability! _How I hated feeling vulnerable and helpless.

I used that loathing to fuel my movements as I rolled onto my side, ferociously struggling past the lack of energy as I lifted an arm and stretched it towards my bed. My fingers touched the rough material that coated it and I gripped it as hard as I could, using it to pull me closer. By now, I was trying to ignore the immensely painful protesting from every cell in my body as sweat trickled down my forehead and my entire face turned red in strain.

My other arm lifted and grabbed a hold of the thin mattress, both limbs now succeeding in dragging me a little closer. I felt like my entire body was going to give out; but I held on to what willpower I had left, mentally screaming at myself to hurry up and get the job done before the guard decided I was moving too slow.

After another minute, I was pressed up against the side of my bed, sweating profusely and letting out strained grunts. My breath was coming out heavy and irregular, and I could have sworn I was about to pass out any second. _Come __**on**__, Kenna. You can do this! Just a little bit further and then you'll be lying on your mildly comfortable mattress – what the hell am I saying? That's not motivational!_ I couldn't even slap myself for having such a ridiculous mental argument. Instead, I sucked it up and gave one final effort.

My arms were shaking as I pulled my torso up onto the top of my bed, and I was letting out a very prolonged, pained noise at the burning sensation throughout my entire body. _Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fu– Oh sweet baby Jesus, __**finally**__! _

I lay panting heavily on my bed, my shins still dangling off the edge, my body soaked with sweat and absolutely _aching_. My vision was darkening again, signifying the approach of another state of unconsciousness; but, frankly, I couldn't care less. I had proved them both wrong and managed to haul myself onto my bed. Yes, it probably took about five minutes and _yes_, it caused me a great deal of pain and yet another case of "she passed out"; but I did it without their help – a point I had been trying to put across since I was first put in this living Hell:

I didn't need their help.

The last thing I heard before I slipped into darkness was a chilling cackle. "I _like_ her!" _Shit... Joker._

* * *

_"Patient interview number eight. Patient's name is Kenna Fyrian. This is my first interview with Miss Fyrian after Dr. Roberts was assaulted and Miss Fyrian tried to escape. Since then she has been kept in her cell to recover from injuries sustained during the escape and to ensure she has calmed down enough to keep to the rules of the Asylum. I've taken her on despite the work with the Titan project, as I'm always looking for more suitable patients – I suspect it will take a few interviews before I can decide whether Miss Fyrian is suitable or not," a female voice spoke._

**Click.**

_"Good morning, Miss Fyrian. I'm Dr. Young, your new psychiatrist."_

_"I see Dr. Roberts listened to my advice," the patient replied, the smirk evident in her tone._

_"He was considering transferring you to another doctor anyway; he felt like he wasn't getting through to you."_

_"Maybe he's smarter than I thought."_

_"Why do you think he felt that way?"_

_"Because I wasn't giving him anything."_

_"Why not?"_

_"He's a man."_

_There was a pause. "Do you not feel comfortable with men?"_

_"I can feel comfortable around them; I just find it hard to trust them."_

_"May I ask why?"_

_"They're cruel and selfish."_

_"Why do you think that?"_

_"I don't __**think **__it. I __**know**__ it. I've had enough experiences to realise it."_

_"Would you like to talk about those experiences?"_

_The patient paused. "Not yet."_

_"I understand. Are you feeling better now, Miss Fyrian?"_

_"The pain is almost gone."_

_"Good, I'm glad. Have you had any recreational time since the incident?"_

_"I'll be let out tomorrow – as long as I don't threaten you or do anything to harm you." The smirk was evident once more._

_"Would you?"_

_"I try not to make promises I can't keep, Doc. I hope you understand."_


	3. Chapter 3

**First things first: **

**omnomnymous, you are a saint, my friend. When I got the email saying that someone had reviewed my story, I fell on my face running to the laptop to check it out. No joke. And what a review it is! You have absolutely no idea how grateful I am and how helpful you are and just wow. It was incredible. To know that you took the time to right all that awesomeness out for me is just... ugh it's bloody fantastic, that's what it is. Oh, and it's cool with me if you want to be best friends. AND - in case you didn't catch my drift - you are an excellent reviewer!**

**I know what you mean, every other one that I've read was a good girl that worked in Arkham or something and then was suddenly able to kick ass and turned into a bad girl and it was a little strange. I'm just going to tell you now to warn you in case you won't like it - although I'm praying that you will - that Kenna does have a mutation... but it isn't anything that benefits her, really. It's more of an inconvenience. Oh my goodness, you're excited? That's so freaking awesome! I'm so happy right now haha.**

**I'm so so so glad you like Kenna - that was one of my main worries. I was shitting myself, thinking nobody would like her! I understand you wanting to get to know her more, and I promise I'll let you into her head soon - it could be this chapter, could be next, or it could be drawn out over a few... you'll have to read to find out! **

**I'm glad you're liking my writing, that's also one of my main concerns. I find that when I'm reading other fanfics, the author's grammar isn't very good, so when I was writing this I was checking and re-checking that it was right - and hoping that I was actually right haha. As for the romance bit, I completely agree. I don't like seeing the characters instantly falling in love or at least being majorly attracted to each other.**

**Hopefully I'll be updating regularly; but I have been an absolute genius and picked a fucking fantastic time to start this story. I'm about to go into about a month of hardcore studying for my exams; but I promise in my breaks and at nights I'll work on this story and try and get the next chapters out as soon as possible. **

**Once again, thank you so, **_**so, **__**so**___**much for reviewing. I am immensely grateful.**

**Okay, next chapter!**

**DISCLAIMER: *caveman voice* I no own Batman.**

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**Chapter 3**

In the dead of night, my back was lying on my bed and my legs were stretching up the wall as I let my mind wander. I thought of my new psychiatrist, Dr. Young, and how she seemed a little different to me. _She didn't push me once... She understood when I said I didn't want to talk about my past. _She was respecting my privacy – and I respected that. It was hard to come across a genuine doctor in the asylum – they were all sneaky and manipulative; but it seemed Penelope Young was not like that.

_I wonder if I'll be able to tell her about my past..._ I immediately dismissed the thought. No matter how much I might come to trust the doctor, I would never know the people on the other side of the tape recorder. If I was to talk to her properly and honestly, it would have to be somewhere completely private, where no one could eavesdrop. But then came the issue of whether _she _would trust _me_ enough for that to be possible. Either way, it was going to take many more interviews.

You see, my past was... rough, to say the least. And quite unorthodox. _Now that I think about it, how would that conversation go down? 'Hey, Doc, when I was eight my dad used me as a test subject in one of his experiments and now I'm not exactly human.' _Yeah, that would go down smoothly.

Thinking about the experiment and the consequences of that experiment made me fidgety. I'd been in the asylum for eight weeks. _Eight weeks_ without burning anything. My hand subconsciously rose to lightly press the areas under my eyes, where I knew existed huge bags. I wasn't sleeping well, I wasn't eating well, my temper was getting shorter – and it was not being helped by the obnoxious guards – and I could feel myself getting weaker. Things were not looking good.

I let my head drop to the side where I could see out of the bars of my cell door when I heard an electronic whoosh. The doors to the room were being opened – and at that time of night, it meant that there was a new patient.

"Boys, please," a sultry voice spoke playfully. "Are you really going to leave little old me all alone with the bad guys?"

I smirked, knowing exactly who it was, as the group's footsteps reverberated off the high walls. "I'm sure you can cope. You've done it before," a guard replied.

"That doesn't mean it was easy."

The first guard passed by my cell, and then the next, and then Selina Kyle herself walked by, with two more guards at her sides. She subtly glanced into my cell and gave me a wink. The last guard looked into my cell curiously, and then stopped. "What are you still doing up?" he demanded.

"Sorry this inch-thick mattress isn't comfortable enough for me to sleep on," I said, rolling my eyes.

He stood looking at me for a moment, contemplating something. Then, finally, he spoke again. "Hey, how about we take Fyrian and put her in with the Cat?" he suggested.

"They can't share a cell, man. You know that," another guard replied.

"Penguin's cell is free."

"Do you think it would be okay?"

"She tried to escape and beat up six guards; I'd say she should be in there already."

That seemed to be the decider. I was handcuffed and pulled out of my cell where I followed after Selina's group to my new cell. _I'm going in with the Rogues? Oh, this can't be good. But it's not often that I get to see Selina again..._ We passed through a heavy door that scanned the guards, walking into a room with three cells on each side.

Selina was led into the middle cell on the right side, and I was shoved into the one closest to the door, next to her. "Enjoy your new home, freak," the guard leading me smirked as he undid my handcuffs. I turned and watched him as he left my cell, flipping a switch on some panel on the wall that sparked an electric barrier that acted as my cell door. There were three thick strips of blue, buzzing light between me and freedom. _Well, that'll be hard to get past._

I heard Selina's door being activated, and then the guards left the room. "They just get more and more pleasant as the years pass," Selina commented sarcastically. "I don't know how you've managed to survive for eight whole weeks in this place by yourself. I barely make it three days before I have to get out."

"I did _try_ to escape," I told her as I looked about my new cell. It was bigger than my last, with a set of drawers; but the bed was as bad as before, if not worse. "But, uh... I ran into a problem."

"Yeah? What was that?" I could hear the smirk in her voice.

"That electric rod thing they carry about." I took up the same position I had in my last cell, looking at the bright orange jumpsuit hanging off of my slim figure.

"Ouch."

"Yeah. So how'd they get you this time?"

"Bad luck, I suppose. And I'd been wanting to visit you for a while."

I smiled. "I would have thought you'd have gotten more friends by now, Selina."

"I do have friends, they just aren't as entertaining as you."

I had first met Selina five years ago, while I had been wandering the streets aimlessly after having lost my job and apartment. She had taken me under her wing for a few months until I was finally comfortable with the life of crime I found myself blending into, and then I started to fend for myself. She was always there if I needed her, and I was always there if _she_ needed _me_. It was an unspoken agreement, one that I would never regret.

"I must say," someone suddenly drawled out. "It's _wonderful _to have you back, kitty-cat. _But_, some people are trying to _sleep_ here."

"Oops," Selina replied, her voice low and teasing. "Sorry, Joker."

"Who were you talking to at this hour?" he asked. By the sounds of things, he was in a cell opposite us.

"My dear friend Kenna Fyrian. She's been upgraded to our room to keep me company."

"_Oh_! The one that tried to escape and then managed to pull herself up onto her bed, _despite_ the doctor having said she didn't have enough energy to move?" he sounded as if he was grinning.

"That does sound like her," Selina commented.

"Yeah, it was me," I said.

"Are you still obsessed with proving people wrong?" I could hear the smirk in Selina's voice again.

I scowled at the wall. "No."

"Are you _sure_?"

"Would you lot shut up? We're trying to sleep," a groggy, grumpy voice said.

"Sorry, Harvey," Selina purred.

"Hey, kitty-cat, how's Bats doing?" Joker asked cheerfully.

"I think he's a little bored, not having you there to blow stuff up," she replied. "But he's got some of the... _lesser_ Rogues to worry about."

"Well, we can't have my best friend all alone out there! We'll have to pay him a visit soon."

"Can't we have this discussion when we're more awake?" another voice mumbled.

"You mean when the guards can hear us, Crane?" Joker retorted. "No. We have it now."

There were sudden footsteps off to the right. "Did I miss anything?" _another_ new voice spoke up.

"Kitty-cat's back, and she brought a friend!" Joker cackled.

I heard the footsteps stop outside my cell, and I turned to see The Riddler with his head cocked to the side to see me better. "Ah, the idiot girl who thought she could escape in the middle of the day with her hands chained together." _Charming._ "What _were_ you thinking?" he frowned, a smirk playing on his lips.

"I was angry. I wasn't thinking properly," I defended myself.

"Uh-huh," he nodded, before walking towards the cell opposite mine. As if anticipating his return, the electric beams switched off, allowing him to return to what was presumably his cell, before switching back on again. "Did anyone notice my absence?" he asked, his head angled towards the wall on his right, on the other side of which sat the Joker.

"Nope!" Joker chirped.

"They really _are_ morons."

"Come on, people, we need to start talking _escape_ plans!"

"We're taking Kenna with us," Selina stated.

I blinked. "Why?" I asked.

"Oh, I'm sorry, do you want to _stay_ here?" she retorted.

"Obviously not; but I'd just slow you down."

"Are you kidding? You're our ticket out of here!"

"What? Why?" Joker perked up.

"Kenna's good with fires," Selina purred mischievously.

"Yeah, well, that's not going to be very helpful when I can't even get a box of matches in this place."

"Easily fixed," Riddler spoke up. I looked over to see him lying down on his bed, his arms behind his head casually. "I can get into most of the asylum whenever I like; there's bound to be someone somewhere with matches."

"We'd need a flammable substance to make the explosion big enough – I'm assuming it's an explosion you're going for?" At the pause that followed, I reconsidered. "Or is it just a distraction? The asylum goes up in chaos, and we slip out..." _Sounds like a good plan._

"Hey, look! The idiot isn't that much of an idiot anymore!" Riddler exclaimed with mock enthusiasm.

"You've got the idea, Kenna," Selina said, ignoring the annoying genius.

"But what about the guards?" I frowned, sliding my legs down the wall so I could sit on my bed Indian style.

"We had a fire once before – an accident that time – and the guards left us here to burn. Luckily, the fire didn't spread this far so we were fine. But it is possible that they'd do it again if the situation arose."

I ran a hand through my long, curly brown hair. "It would have to be somewhere in this building so we could slip into the crowd as they evacuate; but far enough away that the suspicion doesn't fall on us. But then wouldn't they see our jumpsuits?"

"Nygma can handle that too, can't you?"

"Yeah, that'll be easy. We'll start now, and I'll just take a few pieces of clothing at a time. It'll be a few weeks before we get out though, so we avoid suspicion."

"_Excellent_!" Joker cheered happily. "Harvey, Jonathon, are you two in?"

"Yeah," Scarecrow replied.

"We're in," Two-Face added.

"Then it's a date!" Joker cackled. "Ooh, this will be _exciting_!"

"If it works," Riddler stated emotionlessly.

"It'll work, Nygma," Selina told him.

"What I'm worried about, is if _she'll_ work. We don't even know what she's capable of."

_Oh, well, __**thanks.**_ "Neither do the guards," I said. "So we've got the upper-hand here."

I met his doubtful gaze as he lifted his head to look at me. _Don't blink, don't look away, for the love of God, don't do anything stupid!_ I pleaded with myself. "We'll see," he said, and then he lowered his head again and left me glaring at his chin. _Fuck you, Edward Fucking Nygma. I'll show you._

* * *

**So that was Chapter 3. Hopefully it was good and whoever's reading this isn't bored to death - because that would be bad..**

**Thank you again to ****omnomnymous, you're beaut!**

**If anyone else would like to leave a review, feel free! I'd really appreciate them.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Sorry for the wait! I've been studying all day and then playing Arkham City because I just cannot get enough of gliding around the place like a total badass.**

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** : Thank you very much, I'm glad you like it!**

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**Thank you to everyone who took their time to review my story, and thanks to those who followed as well – I am utterly ecstatic that my story has been received so well! Thank you again, and in return, here's the next chapter! I hope you all like it as much as the last ones.**

**DISCLAIMER: I own nothing. Zip. Naught. Zero.**

* * *

**Chapter 4**

I was up most of that night, lying motionlessly on my bed in hopes that sleep would overcome me. But, thanks to someone's obnoxiously loud snoring and my inability to relax, it didn't happen. I took to studying the walls, following the jagged lines of the cracked paint and looking at the occasional small penguin drawn randomly across the bare expanse of stone. They weren't very good.

By the time the guards came to take us for our recreational time, I was about ready to scream my head off with frustration. Being locked in a cell in such a dull and dreary place was killing me on the inside – literally. I needed light and life and excitement; I needed beauty and elegance and danger. I needed _fire_. I hoped that Riddler would get me some matches soon. I would only need a few for the escape; I could use the rest for myself.

We were handcuffed – as usual – and led separately through the halls of the asylum. Passing by interns and newbies sparked some satisfaction in me. The fact that all the buildings were old and creepy only benefited the inmates; it made us seem even scarier. To entertain myself on our walk, I made eye contact with a few of the younger employees, watching as they quickly looked away, tripping over themselves in attempt to make themselves look busy. _I bet half of them don't even know who I am._

When we finally arrived at the 'playground' – as the guards liked to call it – I was released and shoved forwards out the doors. Clenching my fists to stop myself from responding, I forced my feet to take me away from the assholes. I headed towards the seat I always occupied, far away from the other inmates. It was a nice little spot, with a tree off to the side and a water fountain beside a bench. It reminded me that there was actually such a thing as nature out there.

Gotham overall was a depressing and polluted place. The buildings were crumbling and leaking and disgusting, and the people weren't much better. It was difficult to find an honest and legitimately _good_ person in this city; almost everyone had done _something _morally wrong or against the law. And yet I stayed there. Why? I wasn't quite sure.

I supposed that given it was such a crime-filled place, it was easy for someone like me to slip into the deep end and remain relatively hidden. I'd been active for years before the GCPD managed to finally catch me and throw me in the asylum. I was one of the lesser criminals; I'd never had a run-in with the big, bad Batman or his sidekick, Robin. _I wonder if that will change now that I'm planning an escape with the big boys..._

"Hey, Kenna," Selina's silky voice reached my ears. I looked up at her from my seat on the bench and smiled tiredly. "Jesus, you look awful," she frowned as she sat next to me.

"Thanks," I chuckled. I leant back against the wall behind me and closed my eyes, cherishing the feeling of the sun on my bare skin – which was basically my face, neck and hands only.

"What's wrong with you?" she asked.

My leg started bouncing repeatedly as I ran a hand down my face. "It's been eight weeks, Selina. And it's starting to show. I really hope this... _thing_ that's gonna happen, happens soon. I need to get out."

"You haven't been near a fire this whole time?"

I could hear the concern in her voice as I nodded. "I'm not even allowed a lighter because they think I have an obsession with fire. An _obsession_." I opened my eyes to glare at my hands. "They don't know anything."

I felt her put her hand on my knee to stop my leg from bouncing. "Then tell them."

I frowned over at her. "No."

"Why not?"

"They'll experiment on me."

She smirked. "For someone who hates people making assumptions about them, you sure like to make assumptions about other people."

I sighed and looked out over the field of inmates, noticing the Rogues heading over to us. "In my case, it's better to make assumptions than to open up and be used like that again. I'd freak out if they tested on me."

"You'll never know if you don't try," she said, prodding my side.

I swatted her hand away. "You're the one person in this world who knows what happened to me when my dad experimented on me. You're the one person who _should_ understand why I don't want to open up to these people."

"I do understand. But the thing with your dad happened eleven years ago. I just think it's time for you to move on and start trusting people again."

"I'll get on that when I come across a genuinely trustworthy person."

"Hey, ladies!" Joker grinned as he plopped himself down on the grass in front of us. The make-up that he had on his face was cracked and dry; someone really needed to give him a fresh coat.

"Hello, boys," Selina smirked.

Two-Face stood leaning against the tree on our left, and Scarecrow and Riddler leant against the wall on our right. The three of them looked bored and uninterested, compared to the grinning Joker. "How'd they get you this time, kitty-cat?" he asked.

"I let myself get caught," she corrected him, "Because I wanted to see Kenna."

"Aw, how _sweet_!" he cooed, clapping his hands together. "Do you wanna know how Eddie here got caught?"

"I really don't think–ˮ the man in question attempted.

"He was working on one of his death traps for Bats, when the man came _swooping_ in and knocked him out cold!" He burst into a fit of hysterical cackling while the rest of us watched on.

I looked over to Riddler, watching as he glared at the clown, his dark blue eyes intense and severely pissed off. His hands were clenched into fists at his sides and his lips were pursed angrily. "He was _supposed_ to be still working on another challenge. Obviously, he cheated," he muttered.

"Oh, _obviously_!" Joker exclaimed sarcastically.

"Hey, Nygma," Selina interrupted. Riddler turned to her with an irritated expression. "Do you think you could get the matches tonight?" she asked quietly.

He looked over at me. "Why? Are you _that_ bad that you need to practice?"

My fists clenched in my lap and I glared at him. "I don't need practice."

"Then why do you need them now?" His arms crossed over his chest and one of his eyebrows rose expectantly.

"Maybe it's because _I_ don't know if _you're_ capable of getting your part done right."

His face hardened and his jaw clenched. "If there's one person here who's the best at what they do and never makes mistakes, it's me. And I don't think that's why you want them tonight."

My fists were hurting from clenching them so tensely. "I don't have to tell you why I need them."

"I _am_ the one getting you them."

The whistle for lunch blew, startling me; but my glare did not waver.

"Come on, guys. Let's go," Selina said cautiously as Two-Face started heading back to the asylum.

Joker groaned dramatically as he stood up. "You _ruined_ it, kitty-cat! Things were getting _interesting_ there!" Then he stomped off.

"I agree; but I don't think this will end now. I'm going to stick around you two to see if this happens again," Scarecrow smirked as he too walked away.

Selina stood and pulled me up with her, ushering me in front of her while Riddler followed behind us. _Nosy son of a bitch._

* * *

The rest of the day went by uneventfully; Riddler and I both actively avoided each other. The atmosphere in the room with our cells was incredibly tense, and everyone remained silent – except for the occasional giggle from Joker. It seemed that he could be amused in any kind of situation.

By the time everyone was asleep, the atmosphere had lightened up a little bit, enough that we felt we could finally breathe and relax. I didn't know whether it was that change, or the fact that I hadn't slept in days, or the fact that I'd been exhausted by the day's events; but I eventually managed to drift off.

And was awoken what felt like minutes later by a clanging. Already scowling and feeling grumpier than ever, I opened my eyes and looked towards my cell door. On either side of the electrical beams, there was a twenty-centimetre-wide area of the normal metal bars, and they were currently being knocked on by The Riddler. "What?" I mumbled groggily, irritation coating my voice.

"Come here," he said.

I ran a hand over my face and prepared myself to argue; but then I realised I was far too tired to do any more arguing that day, and so I did what he said. He motioned for me to step close to the bars, and lent his forearm on them above his head. I looked up at him – seeing as though my forehead only came up to his chin – and studied his face. He didn't seem as pissed off as before, thankfully.

"What?" I asked again.

He raised his other hand, and then there was a cardboard box pressing against my nose. I frowned down at it for a moment, utterly bewildered. "Do you want your matches or not?" he sighed.

My eyebrows rose and I looked up at him again. I found my mouth opening and closing as I struggled to figure out what to say. Eventually I took the matches and frowned down at them. "I didn't think you'd get them." My fingers shakily opened the box and I looked down at the small sticks that would bring me my relief. _Thank God, it's a full box._

"If I'm right and you aren't as good as the cat thinks, then you'll need all the practice you can get," he shrugged, turning away.

My hand shot out to grab his jumpsuit and pull him back into the bars. He glared down at me as I regained a firm grip on the fabric. "For the last time: I _don't_ need _practice_," I growled.

He leant in closer. "Then why do you need them so badly?"

I let go of him instantly and turned to walk back to my bed. "You don't need to know."

"Listen to me, Fyrian," he muttered angrily. I looked at him over my shoulder, seeing his hands gripping the metal bars tightly while he pressed his forehead against them and glared at me. "You might not want to tell me why; but I _will_ find out one way or another. And I won't give up until I do. You've just become one of my puzzles, and I _always_ solve my puzzles." With that, he turned and walked back to his cell, the electric beams shutting off for him again to let him in.

I sat on my bed facing the back wall, feeling slightly nervous with his words. I looked down at the matches in my hands, and suddenly everything around me seemed to disappear, fading into an eternal darkness. Steadier now, my fingers opened the box again and took out a match. I scraped it against the side of the box, my breath hitching in my throat when a flame sparked to life.

I held the match up in front of my face, watching as the orange-red flame twisted and turned elegantly in the dark. It really was a beautiful sight.

My free hand lifted slowly, my palm facing the flame. I felt the familiar tug in the depths of my very being, the tug I had not felt in eight torturous weeks. The flame wavered strongly, and bent towards my palm. Then it detached itself from the wooden stick and wormed its way through the air until it melted into my skin, the orange-red glow fading into my body. I closed my eyes and hand, smiling slightly at the feeling of the flame igniting my cells in the warmth of strength and energy and life.

I needed _more_.

The burnt stick was tossed to the floor, and another fresh one took its place. I created flame after flame, absorbing each one and relishing in the way they rejuvenated me. My body felt complete, and strong. I was no longer stressed or exhausted. I was no longer furious with The Riddler. I was calm and content and at peace.

It was wonderful.


	5. Chapter 5

**Sorry for the wait again! Had my first exam yesterday so I was just cramming a shit load of revision in last minute.**

**Thank you for the new follows and the reviews! I love seeing all the positive feedback; and if you have any negative feedback, please don't be shy! Just as long as it isn't "You're a steaming pile of shite" or something.**

**alightinthedark89: thank you very much, I'm really glad that Kenna isn't boring anyone!**

**booklover1598: here's another update! thank you for the positive feedback:)**

**KatieHerveaux: aaaahhhh you're the first person to review twice and that makes me excited and all warm inside! thank you so much! Oh, I know what you mean - there is a supreme lack of Riddler/OCs and it just breaks my heart. I don't know what it is about the guy, but he needs some lovin'.**

**Anyways, onwards with the next installment of The Phoenix!**

**DISCLAIMER: I think it's just safe for y'all to assume that I don't own shit.**

* * *

**Chapter 5**

When I woke in the morning I felt utterly glorious. I could hear the Rogues mumbling groggily to each other, obviously trying to push past the haziness people are met with when they wake. But, me? I slipped out of bed and stretched my arms above my head, arching my back with a content smile. I had never felt so alive and energetic; even the dreariness of the asylum couldn't bring my mood down.

As I finished my stretch, I looked out of my cell door. Riddler's eyes trailed up from my covered stomach to my own, his gaze unwavering and suspicious. I dropped my arms with a smirk, knowing he must have been confused at the transformation, and kicked the used matches underneath my bed. "Did you use them _all_ last night?" his voice exclaimed across the room.

I looked back at his bewildered and angered expression as the other Rogues' conversations died down. One of my eyebrows rose. "I may have made a stupid decision the other day; but I'm not _that_ idiotic. I only need a few for the big day."

"I hope you're right," he growled. "I'm not getting you another box."

I shrugged indifferently. "I don't need another one."

He sent me one last glare before he turned away. I looked to the cell next to his, almost smiling at the disappointed expression on Joker's face. "That was just _boring_," he whined.

"I take it Nygma got you what you needed, then?" Selina spoke up.

"Surprisingly, yes," I answered, leaning against the wall that separated us.

"And you're feeling better?" She sounded like she was smirking. _She knows it's pissing Riddler off too._

"Wonderfully so," I smirked with her.

After a few uneventful minutes, the doors opened. "All right, Fyrian," a guard began, "The doc wants an interview. Get into the position."

I stood with my palms pressed against the wall and waited for him to come in. His cold hands grabbed my wrists and secured the handcuffs, and then he took a tight hold of my upper arm and pulled me out. "Have fun," Selina smirked.

"Shut up, Kyle," one of the guards snapped.

Her smirk transformed into a pout. "That was mean," she teased.

He just ignored her as the four of them led me out of the room.

* * *

As soon as the doors closed behind Kenna and the guards, Selina looked to the three cells opposite her containing Nygma, Joker, and Harvey. "So, what do you guys think of her?" she asked curiously.

"She has potential, I suppose," Joker remarked. "_However,_ I'll need to wait until the 'big day' to make an _informed_ decision."

"We agree," Harvey's low, emotionless voice spoke.

"She's quite complex... I'd like to get inside her head," Jonathan said. Selina looked to the wall on her right, to where his cell was. "And such a pretty little thing, too. Nice body, from what I can see." Joker and Harvey mumbled agreements.

"She's an idiot," Nygma snapped. The others shared amused glances at his irritation. "I'm sure there's nothing in that head of hers, Jonathan. It would be a waste of time, trying to see how she works."

"Since when do you care about whose heads I try to get into?"

"I don't," Nygma insisted. He wasn't very convincing. "I'm just expressing my opinion on her – and my opinion is that she'd be a waste of time."

"My, _my_!" Joker drawled out. "It _almost_ sounds like you're trying to _warn_ dear old Jonathan off of your... _property_," his voice was low and mocking.

"I thought you were smarter than that, Joker," Nygma hissed.

"There's no use hiding it, Edward. Anyone can see that she intrigues you," Jonathan commented nonchalantly.

"Don't be absurd," Nygma snapped.

"You know, I'm _sure_ I overheard a conversation late last night..." Joker mused, tapping his chin with a finger in mock contemplation. "What was it that I heard?" Selina watched as Nygma slowly approached his cell door, face hard but eyes holding a hint of wariness. "Oh, _yes_!" Joker exclaimed, having finally 'remembered'. "I'm sure I heard Eddie talking to Kenna, and he said to her: 'You've just become one of my puzzles, and I _always_ solve my puzzles.' Did I hear right, Eddie? Or was that a dream?"

Nygma's jaw clenched and he ran a hand through his hair, turning away from his cell door briefly.

"Is this a matter of feeling attracted to her, or do you just want to figure her out?" Selina asked curiously. She wondered if Edward Nygma – the man who only cared for himself and hadn't been in a relationship of any kind in _years_ – was about to change his ways and surprise everyone who knew him, including himself.

He whirled around to face her. "_Attracted_ to her?" he repeated incredulously. "How could I be _attracted_ to someone so..." His face scrunched up as he tried to think of a word.

"Beautiful?" she smirked.

"Smokin' hot?" Harvey supplied.

"Delicious?" Joker added, his voice low and mischievous.

"_Deluded_," Nygma growled. "You are _all_ morons." He walked to his bed and sat with his head in his hands. "She's just a riddle," he insisted quietly. He wasn't quite sure who he was trying to convince – them, or himself.

Betraying him, his mind wandered back to earlier that morning, when she had been stretching in her cell. He had watched as her orange jumpsuit tightened around a flat stomach, and for the _tiniest_ of moments, he had wondered what her body looked like underneath.

But that wasn't the head on his shoulders wondering; that was the head between his legs – the less favoured head. Therefore, he concluded, if there even _was_ the slightest chance he was attracted to Fyrian, it was only because she had a pretty face and a nice figure. Her mind wasn't appealing at _all_.

All he wanted was to figure out her past, and why she was the way she was. Yes, that was all.

* * *

_"Patient interview number nine. Patient's name is Kenna Fyrian. I've arranged this meeting so that I can check up on Miss Fyrian after her recreational time yesterday, in case anything happened. I'm hoping that this will help her learn to trust me, so she feels comfortable telling me about her past."_

**Click.**

_"Good morning, Miss Fyrian. How are you today?"_

_"I'm good, doc. How are you?"_

_"Really? That's fantastic, Miss Fyrian. I'm fine, thank you."_

_"Can we stop with the formalities? I'd rather you just call me Kenna."_

_"Fair enough, Kenna. Now, I wanted to check that everything went okay yesterday. Nothing bad happened in your recreational time?"_

_"No, it was all fine."_

_"Good, that's good. I must say, you're definitely looking healthier and in better form. Is there any particular reason for that?"_

_There was a pause. Then: "Not especially."_

_"Well, as long as you're feeling safe and happy. So, is there anything you'd like to talk about today?"_

_"Don't you normally choose the topics, doc?"_

_"I thought we'd try something a little different."_

_There was another pause, longer this time. "I'm guessing you want me to feel comfortable so that I'll tell you about my past." The doctor didn't reply. The patient sighed. "Well, I suppose I should give you __**something**__, considering you're being nice." They shifted. "Let's think. Uh... my father's part of the reason I can't trust men."_

_"I see. What did he do?"_

_"He led me into a false sense of security and love, and then made me do something that no nine-year-old should have to go through."_

_The doctor shifted. "Kenna, did he... did he sexually abuse you?" she asked tentatively._

_"No, he didn't. He was nowhere near interested in me enough to be like that. Although, there was one of my foster parents who got close to sexually abusing me; but he ended up with a broken nose and a fractured skull, and I was taken away, so he didn't really get another chance."_

_"I'm sorry..."_

_"Don't be. They were both lunatics."_

_"What do you mean 'were'?"_

_"Well, my father died, and then my foster parent died as well, a few years back. I believe it was in a fire..." It sounded as though she was smirking._

_"Were you the cause of that fire?" the doctor asked, her voice exposing her fear for the answer._

_"Hard to say; there were a lot of jobs going back then. I had many clients, and many fires to start. It might have been one of mine that killed him, it might not."_

_"How did your father die?"_

_"He was a deranged scientist. One of his experiments went wrong and as a result he was killed."_

_"What about your mother?"_

_"She died as collateral damage."_

_"I'm sorry."_

_"Stop saying that. I don't want pity."_

_"Then what __**do**__ you want? What is the drive behind your crimes?" The patient didn't answer. "Is it revenge? Or do you feel that there is no other option?" She was met with silence once more. "What did your father do to you?"_

_"You really want to know?"_

_"Yes."_

_"He used me as a test subject in an experiment of his. It left me with a burn all the way up the left side of my back, and completely changed my life. I am who I am – __**what**__ I am – today, because of him." The doctor was speechless. "I think we're done for today," the patient stated coldly. "I suggest you leave any probing questions until a much later date; you're the one employee here I'm able to tolerate, so be careful."_

* * *

**It's short, I know; but it's hard fitting in writing and studying and just letting my brain shut off. You have my deepest and most sincere apologies for the lack of excitement in this, and I'll try my best to make things longer and more interesting from now on. **

**And I'll also try to update sooner.**

**Thank you ****_again_**** for reading and reviewing, and I'll see you next chapter:)**


	6. Chapter 6

**Back again for chapter 6! Apologies once more for the shortness of the last chapter. I really hate to keep you guys waiting; but I'm going to have to remember to concentrate more on the content of the chapter and not the timing. **

**Replies to the lovely reviews are down the bottom:)**

**Enjoy the chapter, there's a nice surprise waiting for you at the end!**

**DISCLAIMER: It hurts every time I have to write that I don't own anything to do with Batman.**

* * *

**Chapter 6**

A week passed. I didn't give Dr. Young any more information, Nygma started giving out random pieces of clothing to random Rogues at night, and during the day, he had taken to testing me with riddles, to check just _how_ idiotic I actually was. Thankfully, so far, I had been able to answer all of them correctly.

Sharing a room with the Rogues was strange, to say the least. Crane was quiet but observant, sometimes putting in a little question or guess at what people were afraid of; and Dent wasn't very talkative either, mainly muttering to himself about 'we' and 'us' and 'ours'. On the other, completely different, hand, there was Nygma and Joker. Neither seemed to _shut up_. Nygma loved the sound of his own voice, constantly talking about how intelligent he was and how primitive everyone else's minds were, often throwing in a riddle or two in hopes of proving that point – but it seemed that he was only giving us the easy ones for now. Joker was just utterly unpredictable. He would laugh, he would sing, he would tease, and then suddenly he would shout, he would yell, and he would throw a multitude of punches at his guards. I gave myself a headache trying to figure out what he would do next.

Selina, thank _god_, hadn't run off yet. She was the middle ground; she could be quiet at times, but then she would often engage in a conversation with me whenever watching the others didn't amuse her enough. I hadn't felt this grateful towards her since she first took me under her wing.

"Riddle me this!"

I groaned as his cocky voice interrupted my thoughts and my head lolled back until it hit the wall behind me. The other Rogues had similar reactions.

"It is greater than God and more evil than the devil. The poor have it, the rich need it and if you eat it you'll die. What is it, _Fyrian_?" his voice was low and challenging.

I opened my eyes and looked at him, sitting up straight against the wall of the asylum, fingers fiddling with the grass beneath him as he watched me, his eyes intense and excited. My mind went over the riddle, analysing it to the best of my abilities. _What do the poor have that the rich need? And if you eat it you die... something poisonous? But why would the poor have it... _I ran a hand down my face. _What's more evil than the devil? He's supposed to be the baddest of the bad guys, so how can anything be more evil than him? And what's greater than __**God**__? _Suddenly it dawned on me. _The poor don't have anything, and the rich have everything they need... _"Nothing."

His hands clenched into fists. "Correct," he growled, eyes narrowed. I smirked.

The bell that told all inmates to return to their guards ran out across the field, and all began the trudge back to the asylum. I pushed myself up and followed after the Rogues, sighing heavily. Suddenly a hand gripped my upper arm and pulled me to a halt. I turned, expecting Nygma, and was instead met with cracked white paint and yellow teeth. "Hello, Kenna," he drawled out quietly. "Walk with me, will you, my dear?" I nodded, a little nervous, and matched his pace as he began to lead me towards the asylum doors, much slower than the others. "I don't know about _you_," he began, "But I feel that this plan is moving a little too _slow_ for my liking. Don't you agree?" His fingers tightened around my arm considerably, and I nodded. "_Excellent_!" he beamed, letting go of my arm and instead throwing his over my shoulders. "For what I have in mind, I need _you_ to use those fiery talents of yours and –ˮ he cleared his throat, "– make our little room _unavailable_ for anyone else, say, the _guards_."

"I can do that," I nodded. "When is this going to happen?"

"Tomorrow night."

"I'll get Nygma to get me something tonight, then."

"_Wonderful_!" With that, he removed his arm and skipped off. I let out a breath and ran a hand through my hair. There was something frightening about how happy he was...

* * *

When we were back in our cells, I had thought of a decent enough way to get my message across to Nygma. During the day there were two guards standing at the doors, so I had to be careful.

"All right, Fyrian. I have another riddle!" his voice announced.

"Hit me," I said, looking over at his cell.

He stood behind the electric beams, a faint blue glow tinting his features at the close proximity. His arms were crossed over his chest and his lips were curved in a cocky smirk. "If a man carried my burden, he would break his back. I am not rich, but I leave silver in my track. What am I?"

I closed my eyes and leant my head against the wall of my cell. _The burden must be something physical if it would break a man's back... so what carries something physical and heavy, and leaves silver behind when it moves? _An image came to my mind. "A snail."

His face fell. "Correct. Again."

"I have one for you," I told him.

The cocky smirk was back, and he quirked an eyebrow. "Oh, really?"

I nodded, thinking of a riddle I'd heard a long time ago. "There are four brothers in this world that were all born together: The first he runs and never wearies, the second eats and is never full. The third he drinks and is ever thirsty, and the fourth sings a song that is never good. Who are they?"

It only took him about five seconds before the answer came spilling out of his mouth in a smug and condescending tone. "Water, fire, earth, and wind." I nodded. "I think a five-year-old could have figured that one out, Fyrian. Really."

"Probably," I shrugged. After a few moments of silence, I looked into his cell. Feeling my gaze, he looked back at me questioningly. "I could eat," I said nonchalantly, though my eyes were unwavering and looking at him pointedly. "Do you think we're allowed to have a little... _midnight snack_?" My body tensed, waiting for the guards to suddenly spring to life and claim that they were onto me.

But they just stood there staring off into space. _They really __**are**__ morons._

Joker giggled. Nygma glanced at the guards and then looked back to me. He nodded stiffly and then went to lie down. I sighed a small sigh of relief and closed my eyes again, leaning my head back against the wall.

* * *

The electronic buzz of Nygma's cell door had been switched off for a few seconds about an hour ago. I lay in the darkness, staring up at the ceiling, waiting for his footsteps to return. Finally, I heard them; but there was something different... they were heavier, somehow. _Must just be because he's carrying whatever he's brought me_.

I heard my cell door switch off, and I swung my legs over the edge of my bed. "Took you long–ˮ Suddenly a strong, rough hand was gripping my neck tightly, cutting off my words. Panic coursed through my being as it lifted me off the bed and swung me around, slamming me into a wall. Another hand went over my mouth, and I looked up to see some random guy staring down at me with dark, lustful eyes. He was wearing the guard's uniform.

He smirked and let go of my neck, trailing his dirty hand down my chest and stomach. Rage started to boil up within me as he reached for the zipper of my bright orange jumpsuit, his breath heavy on my face. _He's been drinking_. My knee jerked up, colliding with his precious parts, and he let go of me, doubling over in pain. Snarling, I gripped the collar of his uniform and pulled him up, landing a solid punch to his nose. I brought my fist back and hit him again. And again. And again. A satisfying crunch told me I'd broken his nose, and then blood started to spurt from his nostrils, gaining a steady pace. I grabbed his shoulders and slammed him head-first into the wall behind me, knocking him out.

He slumped to the ground, and I stood over him, breathing heavily as I clenched and unclenched my fists. "Dirty son of a bitch," I growled.

"Well, I certainly wasn't expecting that." I turned to see a smirking Nygma, holding a big bottle in his arms. "Didn't know you had it in you, Fyrian." He walked into my cell and stood next to me, looking down at the guard.

"I burn buildings down for money," I said, feeling my anger slowly start to fade. "How could I not be capable of smashing a guy's face in?"

He shrugged and turned to look down at me, his blue eyes bright with amusement. "You just give off the impression that you're a little... acquiescent. Docile."

I scowled and snatched the bottle from him. He smirked. "I'm not submissive," I told him firmly, before I shoved it under my bed. I turned back to the guard and got a good hold of him, pulling him out of my cell. Nygma, always the gentlemen, stood and watched me the entire time. I left the still-bleeding pervert in the middle of the room and walked back to my cell, sitting down on my bed.

Looking up, I saw Nygma still standing there, _still_ watching me. "Thanks for the food," I said, gesturing underneath the bed. He was silent. "Tomorrow night I need out to scout the building, so could you do the turny-off thing?" I gestured then to the electric gate that was still shut off. He still didn't answer. _So this is what my psychiatrist feels like..._

He finally shifted, only to lean against the wall and cross his arms. "You really are quite the conundrum."

I rolled my eyes. "Good for me. Now, can you please let me sleep?"

"You're an awful lot like fire, you know." _I wonder why_, I mused sarcastically to myself. "You can appear harmless and captivating at times; and then you can be unpredictable and dangerous at others. Why are you so similar?"

My fists clenched and I looked at the ground. "I don't have to tell you."

"No," he mused. Then his voice became low and threatening: "But you will. _Soon_."

I swallowed and listened as he walked out, his cell door shutting off for him to enter it. Then, at the same time, both of our electric beams reactivated. _How the hell does he get it so precise?_

It took me at least five minutes before I realised that he had actually complimented me. But that seemed ridiculous, so I dismissed the thought.

* * *

_The little girl sat on the spinning chair in her father's office, playing with her fingers in boredom. Her father had called her in at least half an hour before, claiming he had a surprise for her. She had been so excited, having never received much attention from him; but it soon wore off as she wondered if he was even coming back to her._

_Suddenly, he did. "Come, daughter, it's ready!" he smiled kindly, his eyes flashing with wild excitement. She had been too young to see the hint of insanity that mingled with it._

_He led her through their home, and then outside into his make-shift lab – which was merely an extension on their garden shed. In the middle of the lab sat some sort of tube, large enough to hold an adolescent in comfort. All sorts of computers and machinery lined the walls. "Go inside the tube, there, daughter."_

_"Why, daddy?" she asked, frowning at it. She had no idea what it was; but her curiosity outweighed her wariness._

_"It's to keep you safe. You want to help your father, don't you?" She looked up at him and, seeing the smile on his face – the one that was so rarely directed towards her – she nodded. "There's a good girl. Go on," he urged._

_She went into the tube and turned back to face him, watching as a glass door suddenly locked her in. Fear started to creep into her. "Daddy?" she whimpered._

_"It's okay!" Needles emerged into the tube through small holes, hovering above her skin. "These are just going to inject you with something that will make sure you don't get hurt, all right? It'll only be a small prick, and then you won't feel __**any**__ pain."_

_She looked to him fearfully. "You promise?"_

_"I promise," he smiled._

_She smiled back, trusting him._

_The needles penetrated the skin on her arms and thighs, causing her to hiss. It didn't feel at all like a small prick. They injected the substance, and she felt it swirling into her veins. Then the needles went away, leaving behind a dull throbbing and a drop of blood._

_"What do you feel?" her father asked, eyes wide and lips parted._

_"I can feel the stuff inside me," she replied. Then she frowned. "My arms and legs are getting really hot, daddy. Is that a good thing?"_

_He grinned widely and clapped his hands together, struggling to control himself. "Yes, yes, that's __**very**__ good. What else do you feel?"_

_"The rest of my body is getting really hot as well."_

_His eyes strayed to something on a computer screen. Then his hand slammed down on a red button._

_The girl jumped in fright, and looked to her father in confusion. "What does that do?" He ignored her, instead walking closer and marvelling at something beneath her._

_She followed his gaze, watching as the floor of the tube suddenly caught fire. She let out a shriek and hit a hand against the glass. "Daddy, the floor's on fire!" she shouted, feeling her eyes well up as he continued to ignore her._

_The flames tickled her calves, working their way up her legs to her waist. She pounded against the glass desperately, tears streaming down her face, throat going hoarse with her screams._

_And then, the pain came._

_Agonising, paralysing, mind-blowing __**pain**__, like a million swords stabbing into her left side over and over and over. Her legs gave out, and she collapsed to the floor of the tube. Black was clouding her vision, all energy was seeping from her body, and her heartbeat was slowing. She managed to look up at her father, leering over the tube and laughing like a madman. She snarled weakly, and then her heart stopped._

_An immense explosion destroyed the lab, the garden shed, and even the two-storey house the family owned. Witnesses claim that a fire was ravaging the land in the aftermath, and then slowly, it disappeared, as if it was bathwater being sucked down the plug. The mother was found dead in the rubble of the house, the father in the lab._

_The little girl, however, bore only the burn she received in the tube. She was traumatised; but alive._

* * *

**Well, there you go! I hope the length and content and shit was better for you all. You better be happy cause I took four hours out of my revision time to write this, and I have a load of quotes from a stupid play that I have to memorise for monday! Oh, the joys of exams. Anyhoos, here's the replies to your reviews:)**

**booklover1598: I'm glad you liked it, it was a little rushed! Hahaha, I did see what you did there, and you, sir, get a high-five for that.**

**alightinthedark89: Thank god you liked the threat, I was hoping it wasn't really cheesy or anything. I got inspiration for it from The Hunger Games film, when Snow's talking to Seneca and he's like: "I like you. Be careful." You probably don't care but hey ho. **

**I'm on a mouse: Okay, so, I think I may be in love with you. You're honestly such a wonderful and encouraging person and oh my goodness you make me smile with your words. You really don't need to apologise; I don't care when the review comes, just that it does come and you continue giving me all this help:) **

**I totally get where you're coming from with Catwoman, and I thank you for feeling confident enough to voice your issue because it really is very helpful! When I was writing her I ****_was_**** aware that she was coming off a little bit too... cuddly. I'm hoping as the story progresses I'll be able to delve into her more 'every woman for herself' act thing she has going on.**

**Yeah, I'm not sure if Harvey or Jonathan will come into the story too much; maybe just an explosion here and some fear gas there or something. (Don't worry, I don't know much either...)**

**You know, I'm actually terrified of writing Joker in case he comes barrelling out of my screen to cut me up into slices for writing him wrong... That's normal, right? Anyways, I'll definitely work on making him less tame, just for you!;)**

**Thank you for the positive stuff on Riddler, I'm so freaking glad I got most parts right ahah. As for the riddles: I understand your concern completely. It's just I am probably the worst person for riddles, which is really bloody helpful when you're writing a fanfic on the king of riddles himself. But that doesn't mean there won't be any! I think I just needed more interaction between the two or something, I don't know. I got a couple in this chapter, and I think I'll make them play a more important role in Kenna and Eddie's relationship when it gets a bit deeper.**

**Oh my god, YAY Kenna's not annoying! Thank Christ. Anyway, her whole seductive side doesn't come out much because she doesn't feel the need to use it on the other Rogues; she knows they'd probably see right through it what with Catwoman and Poison Ivy being notorious for their flirting. I almost didn't put a description in it because I think a lot of people like to just picture themselves in the story – especially in fanfics. Is ****_your_**** hair straight and blonde by any chance...?;) **

**Thank you for understanding! And please, for the love of god, do ****_not_**** cry because then I will cry and the chapters ****_will_**** be a steaming pile of shite because I'll be rushing them to make you happy again!**

**Please, don't hold back when your excitement builds up! This review was more than I could have asked for; I'm always wanting to improve my writing and to be honest, you're kind of the only consistent person to help me with that, so yeah...**

**My next exam is English, and I'm hoping to take it again next year at a higher level, so I apologise, but I must go to it ahah. **

**Thank you ****_again_**** for the review, it really was just tremendous:)**

**OH! And the answer to your riddle: is it fire?**


	7. Chapter 7

**I am so sorry for the wait, guys! It's just that right after my English exam I had my Maths exam and then I had to start revising for my Geography exam which is in two days and urgh. Slightly freaking out just now; but coming back to this story took my mind off of things so yay, another chapter!**

**Replies to reviews are down the bottom.**

**Hope you enjoy it:)**

**DISCLAIMER: I own nothing but Kenna.**

* * *

**Chapter 7**

Gasping, I hurriedly sat up, using a hand against the wall to steady myself as the other went around to my back. The searing pain soon faded away, and I was left panting in my bed, a thin layer of sweat coating my skin. My hand was shaking as I ran it through my hair and closed my eyes, taking deep breaths to calm myself, struggling against the rage boiling within me.

I'd had_ that_ dream again – where I relived the moment that changed my life forever as if I was physically going through it again. My father's deranged laughter echoed in my mind and I couldn't help wishing I'd been awake to see him die. Or at least the police had allowed me to see his charred body.

They had been so confused as to how I had survived. They had put my burn down to the explosion, due to the fact that the tube had been shattered around me and all evidence of the experiment had been incinerated. _"How can she still be alive?"_ they had asked each other over and over again. The entire shed had been destroyed, with only one wall and a part of the roof still standing. Everything was blackened and burned, leaving it unrecognisable and indistinguishable. My home was ruined; but, then again, it wasn't much of one in the first place, anyway.

It was a few years later before a memory suddenly came back to me. After the explosion, after I had died, I opened my eyes to look around me with a blurred vision. I felt inexplicably weak and vulnerable, as if all life had been drained from me – which was accurate, seeing as though I _did_ die. I wanted nothing more than to gain back my strength so that I could get out of there. That was when I learned what I had become.

The fire in the shed, and the fire outside of the shed, bent and starting wavering through the air towards me. Having already been burned, I lifted my weak arms and held them outwards in front of me as if to protect myself. But the fire kept coming. It came towards me, silent and beautiful, and then melted into my fingertips, my palms, my arms – any piece of exposed skin it could come across. And as it did so, I could feel myself getting stronger, as if the energy I had so desperately craved was coming back to me through the fire.

When I remembered that moment for the first time, I realised what I was. I had once been a normal human being, who survived off of eating food and drinking water; but I wasn't that person anymore.

No.

I was a changed human being, who survived off of _fire_. It was what fuelled me, what kept me alert and strong. My cells had changed so that without _fire_, I would die.

"Bad dream?" Nygma's voice startled me.

I glanced over at him, surprised that he wasn't mocking me when I saw no trace of a smirk or amusement on his face. "Yeah." _Is he being considerate of my feelings?_ I wondered incredulously.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

_Of course he isn't, you dolt. _He was standing as close as he could to his cell door, watching me intensely, his eyes widened a little in anticipation and eagerness. "No," I growled, collapsing onto my bed again.

"Infuriating girl," he muttered angrily.

"I heard that."

"Good."

"Asshole."

"Ignoramus."

I had no idea what that meant; but I knew it was bad. "Egotistical weakling."

"Delusional moron."

Before I could even open my mouth to retort again, Jonathan interrupted. "Would both of you shut up?" he snapped.

"She started–ˮ

"_Really_, Edward?"

I smirked over at Nygma as he scowled and sat heavily on his bed, sending me a furious glare.

"I am _not_ gonna last much longer in here," I heard Selina groan. I pouted disappointedly, before remembering that Joker's plan was going to commence tonight.

Then it dawned on me: he had never actually said whether he was helping all of us out or not...

* * *

Evening came quickly, and after a quiet and uneventful dinner we were taken back to our cells. Joker gave me a very pointed look before he was escorted out of my view, a look that told me he wouldn't hesitate to punish me if I failed him tonight. Swallowing, I sat down on my bed and waited.

Nygma's cell door switched off first, and then we walked silently from the room, not sparing me a glance. For the next ten minutes I wondered if he was going to let me out. _Why would he? He wasn't even listening to you when you asked him and he obviously doesn't like you that much. He doesn't know about Joker's plan – as far as you know – and 'scouting the building' isn't something that seems important enough to let you out for. Face it. He's not going to let you out and then you're going to have to pay for it when Joker kills you, or worse. Then again, you'll both have to escape first before he can properly get his hands on you. _I shivered, thinking about what he would do to me. _Would he just kill me? Torture me? __**Rape **__me? _I shuddered again, more violently this time. _Oh, God, I hope he doesn't do anything too bad, I don't–_

The electric door switched off.

I sat gawping at the bare expanse for a moment, marvelling at the fact that Nygma actually did as I had asked. _Well, he __**did**__ get you the matches as well..._ one part of me said. _Yes, __**but**__, they're more important than 'scouting the building'. I've been in the building for ages; I shouldn't need to scout it,_ another part retorted.

Shaking my head to clear it of the internal argument, I stood, picking up the jerry can of gasoline and retrieving the matches from underneath my bed. I padded silently out of my cell and looked to the main door. _How the hell am I supposed to–_

The door opened as if it knew exactly what I was thinking. I looked into the corner of the ceiling to see a camera watching me.

_Nygma_.

So even when he must have realised that I was about to cause havoc, he was helping me? It didn't make much sense to me.

"What are you waiting for?" Joker's voice drawled out, low and deadly. "Run along, little Kenna."

Without looking back at his face – knowing that it would probably terrify me – I stalked out of the room. There was a small length of hallway about six metres long between our room and the room containing the other inmates, and I decided that it would probably be enough. Briefly, I wondered how Nygma would get back into the room; but just then the other door in front of me opened.

"Oh fuck," I sighed, tensing up with a wince.

I was met with the sight of Nygma himself walking towards me, his bright orange jumpsuit highly noticeable even in the dark. I was silent as he stopped about a foot before me, staring down into my brown eyes with his own startling blue ones. They roamed over my face, taking in the details, and I took the opportunity to return the favour.

He had short, light brown hair that was long enough to run fingers through, combed to the side without a brush in attempt to make himself look more presentable. He had a strong jaw-line, and a smooth nose sat above slightly thin lips. Around those bright blue eyes of his was evidence of the laughter he obviously emitted often – whenever he wasn't locked up in his cell – but there was also evidence of stress and exhaustion. I wondered what could possibly make the Prince of Puzzles so uneasy that he lost sleep over it.

"You should get on with it," he spoke. His voice was pleasantly deep and quiet. "I ran into a few guards on my way back."

I scowled and pushed passed him. "You could have told me sooner," I snapped. I turned back to him, finding him standing watching me with an unreadable expression. "Here, hold this," I said, tossing the matchbox to him. He easily caught it, keeping his gaze locked on mine, and I turned away again, unscrewing the cap on the jerry can in my hand. I shook out the gasoline onto the ground, moving from side to side as I gradually made my way backwards.

"Who's the one with the plan?" Nygma asked.

"Joker," I replied.

"I see. You may want to hurry up, by the way. The door only has... fifteen seconds until it closes." I groaned and started moving faster, shaking the jerry can harder while he continued to watch on.

"Eight, seven," he started counting down.

"Fuck sake," I muttered, tossing the jerry can away and jogging back to him as he stepped out of the hallway, his eyes locked on my form.

"Four–ˮ I snatched the matchbox from him, "– three–ˮ I retrieved a match and swiped it along the side of the box, cursing when it didn't light, "– two–ˮ another strike and the flame sparked to life, "– one–ˮ I threw the match onto the floor and watched for half a second as the gasoline vapour went up in flames, and then the door closed with a loud clang. "Zero," Nygma finished. "Perfect timing."

I sighed disappointedly, and felt him look down at me in confusion. "That bit's my favourite part," I explained, gesturing towards the door that hid the flames. He nodded and looked back at the door just as the fire alarm started wailing.

"Party time!" Joker shouted eagerly as the other Rogues awoke with a start.

"What the hell is going on?" Selina exclaimed grumpily.

"Eddie, Kenna, I suggest you two go back in your cells," Joker said, grinning from his position up close to his cell door. "It's gonna get a _little_ dangerous in here!"

I looked up at Nygma, returning the confused look he sent me, before we both turned and jogged to our cells. As soon as we were in, there was a loud, violent explosion that shook the walls and sent me tumbling to the ground. The ceiling caved in above where Nygma and I had been standing, sending a cloud of dust and chunks of bricks into my cell. After a moment of coughing and swiping at the air, I heard an incredibly girly voice.

"Puddin'?" the young woman called into the room through the hole.

"_Harley_!" Joker exclaimed happily.

"Hi, mistah J! Don't you worry, the boys are coming to getcha!"

Four muscled thugs jumped down onto the pile of broken ceiling and moved towards Joker's cell, placing some sort of explosive on the sides of the door. "Stand back, boss," one of them warned. The explosives detonated, destroying the cell door and allowing Joker to skip outside.

"Thanks, boys!" he grinned. "Come on, let's get out of here." _Wait, what?_

Just then, my cell door switched back on. "Shit, no!" I muttered angrily, watching as the thugs walked back to the pile of debris with the Joker. I noticed Nygma's door was back on too. "Hey, Joker!" I called. "What about us?"

He skipped over to my cell, and despite the electric beams being in the way, I stepped backwards a little. "Sorry, toots; but in our world, it's every man for himself!" he grinned, before cackling madly. "You didn't _actually_ think that because you helped me I'd let you _escape_ with me?" he mocked. He spun to face Nygma. "Maybe you're right, Eddie; maybe she _is_ delusional!" he exclaimed, throwing his arms up in the air with another fit of cackles. Nygma just continued to glare at him, his hands clenching into fists.

"We gotta go, sweetie!" Harley called down to him.

"Coming, deary!" he called back, running up the pile of debris. "See ya later, folks!"

I watched, completely furious, as the thugs pulled him up and they started running into the air vents. "Mother _fucker_!" I shouted, pounding my fist against the wall next to me.

"Calm down, Kenna," Selina said.

"Calm down?" I repeated incredulously, baffled by the lack of anger in her voice. "The fucking lunatic has just left us here, Selina!"

"I know; but–ˮ

"You _moron_." She was interrupted by Nygma's quiet but furious voice. I glared over at him as he returned the look. His hands were gripping the poles next to the electric beams, his eyes burning with rage. "I thought you two had made a _deal_. I thought you'd been smart enough to know that he wouldn't help us escape. I thought that I'd made a mistake when I assumed you were just as weak-minded as the rest of them, that maybe you could have been someone more intriguing and intelligent than them. I thought that you were someone I could be–ˮ He suddenly cut himself off, unwilling to continue the sentence for some reason. He let go of the bars and took a step back. "Obviously I was catastrophically wrong." His voice was low and full of hatred – both for himself and for me.

For some reason his whole speech enraged me even further. "That's what you get for _assuming_ things, Nygma," I spat, my fingernails digging into my skin thanks to how tightly I was clenching my fists. "You get _proved wrong_. You wanna know why? It's because – contrary to your beliefs – you actually _don't_ know everything. Sure, you're good at solving puzzles; but you're just as fucking clueless as the rest of us, otherwise." His nostrils flared angrily and his lips parted to retort. "No!" I cut him off. "I'm sick of listening to your arrogant and condescending rambling! Do you have any idea how fucking _infuriating _it is to listen to someone rant and rave about how fucking stupid you are? I've had enou–ˮ

"Of course I know what it's like!" he burst furiously. "Why do you think I'm like this? My entire childhood was spent listening to how stupid and worthless I was, how I must have cheated and how I was good at _nothing_! Every single day I was put down, told I was no smarter than a goddamn sloth," he finished, his voice low and dangerous.

"Oh, boohoo," I scoffed angrily, earning myself a look of enraged disbelief. "I was burned alive and _killed_ in my childhood; but I don't go around setting every single fucking person I see on fire, do I?" I yelled.

The door opened and guards burst in, shouting about the broken ceiling and Joker's escape and how I had set the hallway on fire. They were almost as angry as Nygma and I, opening my cell door and tossing me out onto the floor roughly. "You bitch!" one shouted.

I snapped.

My vision went red as I pushed myself up and lunged at the nearest guard, blocking his attacks and pummelling the shit of him. I was so _fucking_ angry – angry at Joker, angry at Nygma, angry at myself, angry at my dad who put me in this situation in the first place. My fists and feet lashed out at every chance I got, taking down any guards who came near me.

By the time one of them managed to stab me with the electric rod, sending me sprawling backwards into the wall, there were five of them lying in agony on the ground. And then there was darkness.

I was aware of everything around me; but I couldn't move anything. Then I saw a white light, growing stronger and larger as I focused on it. I could feel my anger seeping away and a sense of calm and serenity replacing it. The light was so tempting, so _welcoming_.

_"What the hell did you do?" _I heard Doctor Young's voice shout. _"You killed her, you idiots! Oh my God, oh my God!"_

_"Step away from her, doc."_

_"No, wait, I can help her!" _I vaguely felt something sharp penetrate the skin on my neck, injecting some substance into my body just as I finally slipped away for good.

* * *

**Okay, so hopefully that was enough to keep you guys interested in the story; I'd hate for it to become boring.**

**I won't be posting another chapter up until after thursday, probably, because I don't feel that prepared for my next exam and I'm kind of bricking it. After that it's just art, and it's been the worst subject all year so I don't really care much about that:)**

**Onto the replies!**

**booklover1598: thank you so much! hopefully this wasn't too long of a wait for you, and i'm sorry if it was! I hope you enjoyed this one as much as the last one:)**

**meggietron: oh my god, i'm your first fanfiction?! *squeals excitedly* yayayayay! thank you so much, i'm glad you like it! oh, i'm sure you won't be disappointed; there are ****_so_**** many amazing writers out there, seriously. this website it really awesome!**

**Thanks for the reviews and follows, folks - they really brighten my day trememdously:) If you have any recommendations or anything, please, please, please don't be afraid to tell me! I'll see what all of you have to say and i promise i'll definitely pay attention to it, no matter how small it is:)**

**Hopefully I'll get the next chapter up soon.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Here's another chapter, folks! I'm hoping it's as good as the others - I spent a little less time on it this time thanks to my eagerness to get it done. Anyhoos, thanks to new follows/favourites/reviews as always! I love seeing all the positive reactions to my story:)**

**Replies to reviews are down the bottom. Enjoy the chapter!**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own anything but Kenna.**

* * *

**Chapter 8**

"– crazy. Jackson was there when it all happened. He said that she was like a blur or something, beating the shit out of the other guards." A fuzzy voice penetrated the groggy barrier of my mind. I kept my breathing even and my eyes closed.

"What did the doc inject her with?"

"I dunno; but whatever it was, she really expected it to save her."

There was a scoff. "I guess she was disappointed then."

"She started shouting at the guards and had her put in the medical building for a whole day before she finally accepted Fyrian was gone."

Feeling something tickling my nose and forehead, I opened my eyes to see that I was covered by a thick blanket. _Am I in the __**morgue**__? Why the hell would they– __**oh**__._ Suddenly memories of what happened flooded back to me, and I felt my anger growing.

"Great. So a doctor's got all depressed cause she lost a patient, one of the Rogues are dead, and the others managed to escape in the chaos. Arkham Asylum must look _great_ to Gotham just now."

_The other Rogues escaped? Well I'm not staying here if there's no one to keep me company._

"I know, right?" There was a sigh. "I better get going now. I'll see you later."

"Right. Bye."

I listened to the footsteps retreat out of the room until I couldn't hear them anymore. Then I slowly reached my hand up underneath the blanket to my face, and pulled it down to my nose. My eyes squinted at the bright lights and I waited until they adjusted before I let them wander around the room. I was on some sort of trolley next to the wall of slots where other dead bodies lay. The man who had been speaking was standing off to the side with his back to me. _Perfect._

I slid out of the blanket and stood from the trolley, marvelling at the feeling I was experiencing. I thought I had felt as alive as I could when Nygma – _the asshole _– got me the matches; but I was wrong. Now, after coming back from the dead, I felt like I could run around the world right then and not have to stop for a break. I was full to the brim of energy and life; and the feeling was absolutely tremendous. I felt invincible.

But, I was also furious.

I stalked over to the guy and slapped my hand over his mouth, preventing any noise from escaping him while I picked up some sort of sharp object on the bunker next to him and held it to his neck. He was yelling against my hand, his words muffled and incomprehensible. "Would you _shut up_?" I snapped, pressing the sharp thingy closer to his skin. He immediately complied. "I'm gonna ask you a question, and I'm gonna take my hand away from your mouth; but if you do anything that's not answering my question, I'm gonna slit your throat. Got it?" I asked quietly, my mouth next to his ear. He nodded shakily. "Good boy. Tell me everything you know about what happened after I died." I took my hand away from his mouth but pressed the sharp object threateningly against his skin.

"Doctor Young injected you with something, I don't know what; she thought that it was gonna bring you back," he whimpered quickly. "She took you to the medical building and took a few blood tests or something. One of my friends work there and he said that your, uh–ˮ

"My what?" I hissed.

He flinched. "Your cells weren't like a normal human's, or something. When you didn't come back you were brought here, to the morgue. That's all I know, I swear!"

"Thanks for your cooperation," I said, before grabbing his head and smacking it off the bunker, knocking him out.

I looked down at the light blue flimsy gown hanging off my body and scowled. _That's not half obvious._ I took the guy's medical coat and slipped my arms into it, turning back the cuffs when I realised they were too long. I moved back over to the trolley I was on and leaned against it while I removed the tag from around my ankle.

Then disaster struck, in the form of a pudgy ginger man.

"Hey, John, tonight we're all going–ˮ He froze upon seeing the guy on the floor, then looked to me with wide eyes.

I held up a hand to try and stop him from saying something; but then he screamed at the top of his lungs, dropped the papers he was holding, and bolted from the doorway.

"Fuck," I snapped, slamming my palm against the wall next to me. I jumped when a burst of flames shot out of my skin and hit the metal, throwing my hand backwards. Gawping at the cluster of beauty before me, I noted the change in my energy level and watched as the flames returned to my skin, sinking into it and replenishing the lost energy. On the metal door on the wall, there was a blackened and dented circle. I brought my palms up and stared at them in awe. "Woah."

When I heard more shouting down the corridor, I snapped out of it and jogged out of the morgue, turning the opposite way from the ginger. My feet padded quietly against the floor as I ran, keeping an ear out for security. _I don't know where the hell I'm supposed to go._ Nevertheless, I kept running, dodging into empty rooms to avoid doctors and guards.

Finally I came across a room that had 'Personnel Archive Room. Authorised Entry Only' written above the door. There was a mechanism on the wall next to it that obviously kept the door locked; but I found that it was easily destroyed with a small flame ball. Grinning, I entered the room and went to the filing cabinet that said 'Psychiatrists' on it. It took me a few minutes to find Doctor Young's file, and after quickly memorising her address, I left the room again.

Looking down the corridor to my right, I witnessed a sight I had never stumbled across before.

His bulky, intimidating figure stood beneath the one light in the corridor that didn't work, his eyes staring out from underneath his mask right at me. "You should be dead," his deep, rumbling voice spoke.

"Sorry to disappoint you," I purred, smirking.

"How did you come back?"

"Ah, ah, ah," I scolded playfully, waving a finger at him. "That's for me to know, and you to _never_ find out." _Even though I don't know either._

"I don't have time for your games, Fyrian. Tell me, _now_," he demanded angrily.

I turned to face him fully, holding my hand up as I examined it. "Tell me, Batman, is your suit fireproof?" Without waiting for him to answer, I threw a flame ball at him, watching as it engulfed him and he thrashed around like a crazy person. _Now he looks like he belongs here_. "Didn't think so."

I took off running in the opposite direction, soon finding myself at a dead end. There was a tiny window up the top of the wall before me, and an idea popped into my head. _I wonder if it's strong enough,_ I mused, looking at my palm.

Concentrating on the energy throbbing through my veins, I gathered as much as I could and threw it with both hands towards the wall. A massive stream of fire shot out of my palms and collided with the wall, breaking through to the open air. I stumbled, feeling the sudden depletion of energy, and reabsorbed the flames to bring it all back to me.

And then, I got the hell out of Arkham Asylum. _Hopefully I won't be returning soon._

* * *

Standing on Selina's doorstep in nothing but a light gown and a lab coat that clearly wasn't mine, I could understand the look of utter bewilderment on her face. I guess having been declared dead a few days ago also added to her confusion. "I'm glad to see you got out unscathed," I spoke first, gesturing at her appearance.

"I should have expected you to come back," she said, shaking her head as she stood to the side and let me in.

"What do you mean? I'm not _immortal_, Selina," I chuckled, plopping down on her couch. "It's just, both times I've died, there's been something there to bring me back."

"What did it this time? What did Young inject you with?"

"I don't know; but I intend to find out tonight."

"I guess you'll be needing clothes," she smirked.

"Just one outfit for now; I'm not really digging the hospital gown, you know?"

She nodded and went through to another room. "I only have spare suits in this place; all my other stuff is moved to my new house."

"Suits? You mean costumes?"

She sighed. "Whatever you want to call them, yes."

"Beggars can't be choosers," I shrugged, accepting the skin-tight leather suit from her. _Thank God I'm skinny_. "Do you want me to tell you what the doc says after I talk to her?"

"Yeah, sure."

"I'll be back in a few hours."

* * *

Doctor Young walked through her apartment door and shut it behind her, running a hand through her hair as she moved to her couch and sat down heavily. With a sigh, she leant back and closed her eyes.

"Tiring day?"

She jumped at the sound of my voice, staring at me wide-eyed. "How do you know where I live? Why are you here?" she rushed.

I stood and walked over to her. "Personnel Archive Room," I shrugged. "I'm here to ask you about what happened." I sat down on her couch and patted the spot next to me.

"I think I'll stand, thanks," she smiled nervously, shuffling her feet.

I smirked. "Right. Anyway, I was wondering what you injected me with."

She swallowed hard and looked away, twisting her hands nervously. "Are you going to kill me?"

I looked at her blankly. "Are you going to answer all of my questions with another pointless question?" She flinched as her breathing started to come quicker. "No, I'm not going to kill you," I sighed. "You're the one person I can stand at the asylum, remember? There's still a chance that I'll get thrown back in again."

She nodded and took deep breaths. "Do you normally... you know... come back to life after you die?"

"Well, I've only died twice in my lifetime, and both times I've obviously come back; but it's only because there's been something there to _bring_ me back. Otherwise I would have stayed dead."

"How do you know that?"

I rubbed my hands together and leant my elbows on my knees, looking at the ground beneath my feet. "Is this place bugged in any way?"

"Not that I know of," she answered slowly, frowning in confusion at me. "Why?"

I jerked my head to the empty spot beside me. "Sit down." She obviously decided that it would be better to do as I said. "I never told you anything in the interviews because I didn't know who was at the other end of the tape recorder. Now, though, it's just you and me. Right?" She nodded. "Okay, here goes. When I was young, my father used me as a test subject. He injected me with some sort of substance that changed my cells so that they didn't respire. Whatever it was, he designed it to make someone live off of fire instead." I paused and looked for her reaction. Her eyes widened as realisation dawned on her. "I died after the fire burned up my back; but then I woke up and all the fire came towards me and melted into my skin. The reason I looked healthier the other day was because I had managed to come across some matches. I can survive longer without fire than normal humans can without food or water."

Doctor Young sprung up and charged towards her work bag, startling me. "We took blood tests after you died the other day, and found that your cells were unlike anything I'd ever seen – they didn't match humans, animals, or plants. They weren't even similar to some of the other Rogues, like Poison Ivy or Mr Freeze." She came back over with pictures of my cells and showed them to me.

My brow furrowed. "Are you sure these are my cells?"

She frowned too. "Yes. Positive."

I groaned and ran a hand down my face. "Then they've changed again." I looked over at her. "What did you inject me with?"

"It's a new substance I've been working on for a while. It's called Titan. But I'm pretty sure it wouldn't change your cells the way they have," she mused.

I leant against the back of her couch. "Well, this Titan stuff has changed _something_." When she looked at me expectantly, I smirked and lifted my hand, palm facing upwards. The veins in my hand and wrist pulsed a red-orange colour, and then a small flame emerged from the skin to hover over it.

Doctor Young gasped. "Oh my God," she mumbled. "Wait, you couldn't do this before I injected the Titan?"

"No. I could only absorb the fire."

She ran a hand through her hair. "But the dosage was only enough that the effects would be temporary..."

I frowned. "Are you saying that..." I trailed off and she nodded slowly.

"I think... when you die, your cells change and adapt to the conditions around them. In this case, the Titan was already affecting your... ability, and so when the cells changed, they somehow adopted the affects and now they're permanently embedded into your genetic code."

I gawped at her for a long moment before my head fell back. "Fuck," I sighed. "So I _am_ kind of immortal."

"I guess so..." she mumbled. "Even if you were somewhere without oxygen and you died, your cells would adapt so that you could breathe in an environment deprived of oxygen, as long as there was another gas present that was abundant enough to sustain you." We sat in silence for a moment. "I wonder what it was exactly that your father injected you with."

I ran a hand through my hair and stood. "I'm sure there will be records of my cells somewhere; you should be able to work with them," I shrugged as I headed towards her fire escape.

"How am I supposed to find them?"

"I don't know? Type my name into the system or something."

"We already tried. Kenna Fyrian doesn't exist."

_Oh yeah..._ "You'll need my real name..." _What was it again?_

"That would be helpful."

"Amelia Shaw."

"Thank you... Amelia."

I whirled around to glare at her heatedly, watching with satisfaction as she shrunk underneath my gaze. "Do not _ever_ call me that again." She nodded fearfully, and then I was gone.

_What a fucking day._

* * *

**That's another chapter in this story done. Riddler should be making an appearance in the next one, and then hopefully I can start developing his and Kenna's relationship further. Now that they're out loose in Gotham, there might be more interactions with other Rogues and also with the big bad Bat. So stay tuned!**

**Okydoky, replies to reviews now.**

**booklover1598****: hope you liked this chapter just as much!**

**meggietron****: see? this website's full of amazing writers:) aw thank you, that's very sweet! don't worry, I don't find that creepy hahah. I have a few stories bookmarked myself.**

**nicsnort****: thank you very much! I hope this new turn in Kenna's ability isn't off-putting for you; I tried to make it more believable than others but I don't know. thank you again:) also, I have been reading your Riddler fanfic before you even reviewed mine and I have to say I'm loving it! It's bookmarked on my phone:) I haven't gotten around to following it because I hadn't really used my account until I started this story and I started reading yours before that so yeah. I'll follow it now!**

**Sixx Shi****: I'm glad you're enjoying it:) I've been so worried about Kenna turning into a Mary Sue, so thank you for that! I'm also glad that it does actually seem like the fire is a part of who Kenna is, that's really good to hear. I know what you mean, I didn't want to make Joker do it; but it seemed more like him to leave them behind. Have to keep emphasising how unpredictable and wacky he is. Well, you got your wish, everyone did make it out anyway!**

**KatieHerveaux****: Yay, welcome back! Don't worry about it; as long as you don't stop reading it because it bored you, I'm fine with it ahah. thank you so much! I'm glad Riddler shouting wasn't too out of character that you didn't like it!**

**Thank you so much, guys, for the reviews and follows and favourites. They really are very helpful and encouraging and I love them to bits. To anyone who has read or followed or anything: if you have anything to say - positive or negative - I'm all ears. Seriously. I love to see all the feedback and it really does benefit me. So don't be shy! This is a place where all the socially awkward people can express themselves and, as long as you're polite, I am always willing to hear what you have to say:)**

**See y'all in the next installment of The Phoenix! **


	9. Chapter 9

**Guys, I'm so, so, ****_so_**** sorry for the lateness; but I've just started my last year at high school and I felt like I was spending too much time hunched over my laptop anway. Oh, and also, I've been playing a lot of Assassin's Creed and pondering over a fanfiction in that because attractive Altair is attractive.**

**This chapter is shorter than usual, just cause I wanted to give you guys ****_something_****; but just hang in there, I promise it'll get better.**

**DISCLAIMER: I only own Kenna.**

* * *

**Chapter 9**

"I knew there was more to you," Selina murmured as she crouched down on the roof, suited up in her Catwoman gear as she watched the random thugs on the street below. The evening light was fading around us; but that was no problem.

My jaw clenched slightly at her implied assumption, and I let my legs dangle over the side of the building. I _was_ going to say something; but I was suddenly immensely interested in the fabric wrapped tightly around my thighs. Selina's suit complimented my slim and curvy figure nicely, I had to admit, and something about it seemed... empowering.

It was strange how an outfit seemed to define the rogues in Gotham – Selina with her black, skin-tight suit, and her mask with cat ears; Joker with his purple suit, green hair and clown paint; Nygma with his varying question mark covered suits and his cane. They all had a trademark image that identified them, that let people know exactly who they were dealing with. Even Batman and Robin had their outfits. And me? Well, I had nothing. _And whose fault is __**that**__?_

"I need an outfit," I mused.

Selina glanced at me out of the corner of her eye. "You can use that, if you want. Experiment with it."

I looked down at the suit in approval. "Thanks, Selina." I paused for a second. _I hate sounding sappy; but I have to do this._ "You've been a big help and–ˮ

"You scratch my back, I scratch yours," she interrupted, waving a dismissive hand.

I smirked and looked down at the thugs_. Fair enough._ "Do they belong to anyone?"

"There's nothing to suggest that," she replied. "I think they're just idiots trying to steal my stuff." I nodded in agreement. There were eleven of them, gathered around the back door to one of Selina's hideouts as the leader attempted to pick the lock. There was nothing significant inside; but they needed to be taught a lesson. "So, how are you gonna let Gotham know you're still alive?" Selina smirked. "I'm sure the guys will be thrilled."

I rolled my eyes, thinking of one rogue who would most certainly _not_ be thrilled to see me, and another that I'd quite like to beat the shit out of. "I'll just keep going like normal, I guess. They probably haven't noticed anyway," I shrugged.

Selina looked at me properly. "Kenna, everyone was furious that the guards killed you," she said seriously. I opened my mouth to dismiss her; but she beat me to it. "I mean it. Sure, they all hate it when a rogue is killed by anyone other than _another_ rogue; but they definitely took your death more seriously. Even Nygma was pissed off."

"Why would Nygma, of all people, be annoyed that I was gone? He looked ready to kill me just minutes before the guards beat him to it," I scoffed.

"Because after you confessed what had happened in your childhood, he looked like he was rethinking everything." She looked back down at the thugs, continuing in a way that made it seem like she was talking to herself more than to me. "I haven't seen him so determined to know everything about a person since he started his obsession with exposing Batman."

I frowned uncomfortably. "Talking about the Bat, isn't there a chance he'll show up?"

Selina smirked. "I wouldn't worry about him if I were you," she said. "Not when you have me around."

I was about to question her further, but the thugs had appeared to have unlocked the door. They were getting ready to infiltrate the building. "That's my cue," I smirked, pushing myself into a standing position. Selina followed suit, and stood a bit behind me.

"Work your magic, Kenna," she said.

I brought my hands into my torso, gathered up a large amount of energy – being careful not to use _everything_ I had – and then thrust them towards the thugs. A huge ball of fire burst out of my skin and raced towards the ground, slamming into two of the thugs and immediately setting them alight. I ignored the fact that I stumbled at the sudden loss of energy. After placing the backs of my hands against each other, I spread them apart quickly, watching with satisfaction as the ball of flames shot out to the sides and engulfed the nearby thugs.

Their yells and screams were loud enough to wake the entire street, and Selina had told me not to kill them, so – albeit reluctantly – I held out my hand as if offering help to someone, and waited for the fire to return to me. Within seconds, the street was no longer lit up in an orange glow, the thugs were no longer flailing and screeching in agony, and I was no longer about to pass out from the energy loss.

I felt Selina's presence next to me as the thugs stumbled over each other and looked up at us, the setting sun directly behind our figures. "They look terrible," I said quietly, smirking.

"It's fine," Selina replied nonchalantly. "They'll fit in with Harvey's guys."

* * *

We were walking along the rooftops of Gotham as the moon shone down on us. I wish I could say that we were breathing in the crisp, clean, night air; but everything was polluted here – the air, the people, the authorities... _You need a more positive outlook on life_, I told myself, shaking my head.

"You know, Kenna," Selina began slowly, almost cautiously. "Penguin's not really happy with Nygma right now."

I quirked an eyebrow at her. "And?"

She glanced at me, obviously trying to hide a smirk. "Well, word has spread that you are Nygma's new favourite puzzle. And when he has a puzzle–ˮ

"He always solves them," I interrupted impatiently. "I know. What does this have to do with Penguin and, more importantly, why are you telling _me_ this?"

She rolled her eyes and picked up her pace, sauntering away from me. "Yes, Nygma usually _does_ solve his puzzles; but until he does, he gets very... possessive." I smirked. _Nygma? Possessive over __**me**__? Like that would happen. _"Look, all I'm saying is that Penguin might come after you to get revenge on Nygma."

I smirked and caught up to her. "Is the sneaky, independent Cat admitting she's worried for me?"

She stopped and looked at me with a 'really?' expression. "You remember who you're talking to, right?"

I chuckled and ran a hand through my hair. "Listen, I think I'm going to go to my place and lay low for a while."

"Kenna, your apartment is the first place they'll look," she sighed.

I quirked an eyebrow. "I'll have you know, I got two apartments just in case a situation like this ever arose. No one knows where the back-up one is, so I'm good."

She nodded understandingly. "Alright. Go there and do something with the suit, make it your own. And try to think of a good name for yourself before the newspapers come up with something crappy."

I grinned. "See you later, Selina."

"Bye." And with that, she jogged to the edge of the building and somersaulted out of view.

"Show off," I grumbled.

When I was back on the streets, I kept into the dark alleyways to avoid being noticed by anyone. I often found myself looking at my palms, prodding at the energy inside me to get the orange-red glow to become more prominent in my veins. I was thinking of suitable names for myself, wondering which one would best describe me and my back story. _It has to be something that makes sense, because all the other rogues have names that make sense – The Riddler is obsessed with riddles; Catwoman has cat-like reflexes; Two-Face has two faces; Scarecrow has a scarecrow mask; Joker is wacky and unpredictable and a clown... So what will my name be? __**Fire?**_ I scoffed at myself and shook my head.

I turned into another alley and stopped dead in my tracks, coming across a sight I didn't need nor want to see. It wasn't anything disturbing or gross or anything. _Oh, no, not at all! It's just the guy who loathes you and who you __**really**__ didn't feel like speaking to today. _I watched his back as it slowly turned around. _No backing out of this now. _

He was dressed in a deep green suit with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, exposing the skin of his forearms. A purple shirt was tucked underneath the suit jacket, and a black tie was settled neatly under his collar. He had a purple domino mask around his bright blue eyes, which were currently widened in shock and staring right at me. In his hand was a cane, the end shaped like a question mark, and all over his suit jacket and trousers were black replicas of the punctuation mark.

He was stood all the way at the other end of the alleyway; but I could tell he knew who I was. I mean, the man looked utterly bewildered, which was understandable since–

"Kenna," he called out, having regained his composure. _Also the fact that he said my name shows that he recognises– __**Wait**__... did he just address me by my __**first**__ name? _"I didn't expect to see you up and about so soon after your demise."

"The morgue was boring," I replied, my mind still reeling at the fact that he called me _Kenna_ and not _Fyrian _like he usually did. While he remained silent, I let my eyes wander over his form, taking in details I had previously missed. His hair was ruffled and dishevelled; his shoes were caked in muddy water and dirt, as were his trouser legs; and he was obviously trying to recover his breath – subtly of course. "You've been running," I stated.

"And you've been brought back from the dead," he retorted, holding his cane in both hands behind his back. "Riddle me this: I find peace in ashes and flames, though I also find pain. My heart stops when the fire starts, and then I shall live again."

Just as the last word left his mouth, a white van pulled up behind him, a thug smacked him over the head, picked up his limp body, chucked him in the back of the van, and it tore off down the street. All before the answer slipped from my lips: "A phoenix."

My fists clenched at my side and an anger grew in the pits of my stomach. I knew exactly who had ordered Nygma's capture. And I knew that, if not for me, it would have most likely been avoided. _Mother __**fucker**__. Just when we seemed to be on good terms again._

It was only natural that I decided what I was going to do next. After all, I _was_ his puzzle, and I'm sure he still wanted to solve me.

What wasn't natural was the fact that I kind of _wanted_ him to solve me. _No, that's not natural at __**all**__._

* * *

**I also did this quite late, so I apologise if things aren't as good as before.**

**Thank you, thank you, thank you for the new follows/favourites/reviews - they mean the world to me, they really do.**

**I'll (****hopefully****) see you all soon! Thanks again.**

**P.S - let me know if anyone would be interested to see an Altair/OC story.**


	10. Chapter 10

**So, I spent more time on this chapter cause I was off ill today - hay fever sucks. Sorry for the delay and everything, and thanks to everyone who reviewed and followed! Love you guys. Enjoy the chapter:)**

**DISCLAIMER: I own nothing but Kenna.**

* * *

**Chapter 10**

Edward scowled and rubbed the back of his head, where a lump had already formed. He opened his eyes to take in the sight before him: the bars of a cage. He tutted to himself disappointedly and stood up, brushing the dirt from his suit so that he looked more presentable. His eyes flicked around the room, allowing him to deduce that he was inside Cobblepot's second smallest hideout. It was a two-storey building, with four rooms on the bottom floor and three on the top one. It was also where Cobblepot liked to keep some of his more troublesome hostages, as the building was situated right next to the docks – an easy place to dispose of a body. He could hear the waves through the open window.

His mind wandered to the reason he was stuck in this place: Kenna Fyrian. The infuriating girl had distracted him when he was trying to flee from some of Cobblepot's thugs, and, now, he was locked in a cage. "From a cage in the asylum to a cage in Cobblepot's basement," he muttered to himself, shaking his head. He was still angry at Kenna, and rightly so. After all, he had _never_ been wrong about someone more than _once_.

He wondered if she had figured out his riddle. He hoped so – it would be a good alias for her. After all, she _had_ died and come back to life seemingly twice now.

His thoughts were interrupted when the door to his room was opened and Cobblepot himself walked through.

"I know you wanted to capture me, Cobblepot; but surely you could have done so in a more affable manner," Edward said. "Perhaps we could have arranged to have dinner, to talk things over."

"I'm not listening to anything you have to say," Cobblepot spat.

"Then I'll ask the questions, shall I?" He didn't wait for a reply. "Why on Earth have you decided to take me hostage?"

Cobblepot whipped his umbrella up so it pointed at Edward's face. "Don't play dumb with _me_, Nygma."

Edward fought the urge to roll his eyes – he didn't trust Cobblepot's umbrellas. Of _course_ he knew why he was a hostage. "You _believe_ that I killed three of your henchman and gave information of your whereabouts to Batman. Obviously it is a fatuous idea; I don't like getting my hands dirty."

Cobblepot glared at him. "You left a _riddle_! You can't stand there and tell me it wasn't you when–ˮ

"Really, Cobblepot, even with an IQ as low as yours you should know that such a boring and trivial riddle did not come from this mind." Edward did roll his eyes this time, now that Cobblepot was more confused than angry. "I suggest you search the opposite side of Gotham. The person who wronged you is one of my reoccurring copycats. I've been meaning to dispose of him for a while, now; but my plans were interrupted when I was admitted into the asylum."

Cobblepot didn't look convinced. "Forgive me if I don't believe you straight away," he spat, turning and stomping away from the cage.

Edward scowled at the small man's back. He never lied about anything to anyone. "How long am I to be held here?" he called out.

"For as long as I want you to stay," Cobblepot smirked, before slamming the door closed behind him.

Edward shook his head at the moronic man and walked to the door of his cage, eyeing the lock. "This is _too_ easy," he commented, feeling slightly insulted. He was about to start working on the pitiful mechanism when an explosion shook the entire building.

Quirking an eyebrow, he strained his ears to listen to the shouts and yells of Cobblepot's henchmen. They didn't sound as scared as they would be if it was Batman infiltrating the building; so he was left to wonder away to himself as he continued to unlock his door.

After a few minutes, he was stood before the open window, listening out for any sound of the attacker. According to the lack of noise, it seemed that all of the henchmen had been dealt with, and the attacker had left.

Suddenly the door to his room slammed open, and he caught a glimpse of a dark red figure holding a flailing Cobblepot before they disappeared back where they came from. "Hurry along, darling," a voice called out. Edward's eyebrows rose. It was _Kenna_.

He jogged after them, catching up to them easily and finding himself unable to take his eyes off of his 'saviour'. Kenna was wearing a skin-tight leather suit that hugged her in all the right places, accenting her curves and– _No!_ Edward mentally slapped himself. What was _really_ most eye-catching about this suit was that it was a very deep crimson colour, and there was a golden pattern stitched into the place between her shoulder blades. Edward smirked when he realised what the pattern was. "I see you figured out my riddle," he commented. For once he wasn't irritated that she had.

"Yes, I did," she replied, a smirk evident in her tone. She tossed his hat, his domino mask, and his cane back to him and he caught them easily. "Thank you, by the way. The Phoenix is a very fitting name, I like it. Don't you?" she asked Cobblepot, tightening her arm around his neck. He choked slightly and nodded.

Edward watched as her curly brown hair bounced in time with her lengthy strides, her hips swaying with confidence and elegance. She really was a sight to behold, he _had_ to admit.

But that didn't really concern him.

Much.

* * *

I tied the rope securely around the pole pointing out of the courthouse's roof, standing back to look at the rising sun. Feeling Nygma come to stand next to me, I smirked. "What's black and white and red all over?" I asked, loud enough for Penguin to hear.

He met my gaze and smirked as well. "A sunburned penguin."

"Let me _down_!" Penguin shouted. "I'll kill you both!"

I frowned down at him, watching his basically naked figure hanging from the pole. All he was wearing was his underwear. _That's not a nice thing to see; but it sure is satisfying. _"That's hardly a good incentive," I called down to him. Far in the distance, I heard a very distinguishable rumble. "I thought bats were nocturnal," I grumbled.

"Haven't you heard? There's a new species in Gotham that likes to come out during the daytime as well," Nygma replied.

I grunted and headed over to the ladder we had propped against the wall of the courthouse. We silently made our way into the heart of Gotham again, keeping to the alleys and infrequently travelled streets. After a while, it seemed to only just register in my mind that Nygma was still walking with me. _He's __**following**__ me?_

As if he read my mind, he said: "Where are we going?"

I looked over at his expectant expression, frowning. _I guess I do kind of owe him for being the reason he was left in the asylum... even if it __**was**__ just for a few hours. And if I'm still his puzzle, and he'll still be wanting to figure me out, then I guess I'd rather have him somewhere I know than having him jumping out at me randomly. _"My place," I finally answered. He nodded and kept walking with me. I was disturbed to find that I was a little relieved he didn't protest and run off on his own. _You're only relieved because this way you know he won't try to kidnap you,_ I told myself.

_No, you're relieved because you enjoy his company._

I scowled at the stupid side of my conscience and pushed the thoughts aside.

* * *

Nygma followed me into the small apartment, looking around at the living room, adjoining kitchen, and the hallway. "It's not much; but it does the job," I shrugged. There were two couches and a TV in the living room; the kitchen was pretty basic; and the hallway led to a bathroom and my bedroom. Nygma settled himself on the couch, kicking his shoes off and stretching out across the cushions. I quirked an eyebrow. "How long are you planning on staying here?" I asked him.

He met my gaze with his steady, bright blue eyes. "How long are you planning on being so mysterious?" he retorted.

_So, as soon as he has me figured out, he'll leave? Interesting..._ "Depends on how nice you're gonna be about it."

He smirked. "I like challenges," he said. "So don't expect me to be suddenly courteous."

"You? Courteous?" I scoffed. "I wouldn't expect that in my wildest dreams." I moved into the kitchen and opened the fridge, looking for a drink.

"Why is it that people can't assume things about you; but you can assume things about them?" Nygma asked, sounding suddenly close behind me.

I closed the fridge door and turned to see him less than two feet away. I leant back against the door casually and eyed his pondering expression. "I'm a hypocrite," I shrugged. "Sue me."

He took a step closer, his eyes narrowing. "Why are you so against people assuming things about you?" he asked quietly.

I swallowed. "You're the genius. You figure it out."

His bright blue eyes bore into my deep chocolate ones as his hand pressed against the door next to my head, the action forcing his face to come closer to mine. By now, I could see all the little details of his face, and it was making me uncomfortable. "There's such a thing as personal space, you know." It was supposed to come out strong and confident; but it was barely a whisper. _What the fuck, Kenna?_

Nygma continued staring at me, showing no signs that he'd heard or understood what I said. Then, finally, he dropped his hand and pulled his face away from mine a little – just enough that I wasn't feeling so uncomfortable. He kept his gaze locked on me, however, and I found myself unable to move. When it started trailing over my face and down my body, I narrowed my eyes. _Is he checking __**me**__ out?_

Suddenly he frowned, his jaw clenching, and his hand reached out to hover over my upper arm. I quirked an eyebrow questioningly and followed his gaze, only to see that he was looking at the bullet wound I had sustained when I attacked Penguin's hideout. "Oh, yeah," I mumbled, frowning as the pain started to register in my mind.

Nygma guided me over to my couch and set about searching my kitchen cupboards. "The first aid kit's in the bathroom, Nygma," I told him. He stopped and looked over at me with an unreadable expression. "What?" I frowned.

"Stop calling me that."

"What? Nygma?"

"Yes."

"Why? It's your name, isn't it?"

He remained silent for a while, studying me. "Just call me Edward, Kenna." And with that he went through to my bathroom. I frowned down at my hands. _This guy's getting weirder and weirder._

When he came back, I was so lost in my thoughts that I didn't realise he'd cut a hole in my suit until there was a sharp pain in my arm. "You ruined my suit!" I accused.

He rolled his eyes. "It's easily replaced, Kenna."

I couldn't help myself. The thought had been acknowledged before I could suffocate it. _I like the way he says my name. _Irritated at myself, I figured I could just take it out on Edward. "Not when I spent a whole day painting it and stitching that pattern into it!"

He looked up at me with a bored expression before resuming his work. His rough hands gently handled my arm as he dabbed at my wound. "The bullet's not there anymore," he said. "I'll have to stitch it up."

I nodded. "Don't enjoy this too much."

He smirked. "I'll try not to."

After a few pleasantly silent minutes, the pain finally died down a little, and Edward stood up. "There."

I looked down at the neatly bandaged wound and stood with him, feeling very tired. "Thank you."

"In return," he began, making me groan loudly. "I'd like to know how you came back to life."

I walked towards my bedroom, hearing him right behind me. "Which time?" I asked, though I wasn't going to divulge any information either way.

"The first time."

"It'll have to wait until later; I'm tired." I could feel his glare burning into the back of my head as I moved over to my bed and took out the loose t-shirt and shorts I used to sleep in. "You can have the couch."

Edward was silent for a moment. Then: "The _couch_?" he asked incredulously. "You don't have a spare room?"

"When I bought this place I wasn't planning on letting anyone know where it was, which means that I didn't need a spare room," I retorted, scowling at him pointedly.

"I am _not_ sleeping on a couch after I just treated your wound."

I quirked an eyebrow challengingly. "This is my place, which means that you're gonna live by my rules. You don't want to sleep on the couch, you know where the door is. I'm not stopping you." With that, I shut my door in his face. "Goodnight, Edward." _I don't expect to be seeing you any time soon._

* * *

Despite being furious with the impolite 'host', Edward couldn't help but realise that he liked the way she said his name. For some reason, that only added to his reluctance towards the idea of leaving Kenna's tiny flat.

* * *

**There you go! Hope this one was better and more steady-paced than the last one. Now we can really get into Kenna and Eddie's relationship.**

**So I come off school on wednesday; and then I'm going to portugal for two weeks (fucking yes!) so I'll see if I can bring the laptop with me and keep writing over there:) I'll have to see if I get any internet or not in the villa we're staying in, though.**

**As for the Altair/OC story, thanks so much for the positive encouragement! It's definitely something I'll look into now that I know it would would have at least two readers haha.**

**As always, thank you all ****_so_**** much for the reviews, they really do mean a lot to me and I read them all thoroughly.**

**A special mention to Kiki, because you gave me constructive criticism and I greatly appreciated it. Thank you.**

**That's all I have to say, I think. I'll see if I can get a chapter done before I go on holiday; but if I don't have one out by Saturday, then be prepared to not have one until after two weeks have passed - just in case I don't get internet in portugal.**

**Anyhoos, thanks for reading and I'll hopefully see you all next chapter!**


	11. Chapter 11

**Sorry for the long wait guys; but I'm finally back from Portugal! And I've brought two new stories with me, as well, a Legolas/OC and an Altair/OC. So if anyone's interested then keep an eye out for them. I'm a little worried that at times I'll be in a zone with a certain story and neglect the others; but I'll try my very hardest to divide my attention equally.**

**Onwards with The Phoenix for now, however! Hope y'all enjoy the chapter and, as always, I welcome feedback with open arms and lots of cookies.**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own anything to do with Batman, sadly.**

* * *

**Chapter 11**

When I woke the next morning, there was a dull throb pulsating in my arm. I groaned and rolled onto my back, squinting at the sunlight filtering through the cheap blinds over my window. I could hear nothing from the rest of my apartment, and I knew from the asylum that Edward was always awake before me. Maybe he was allowing himself to lie in for once, or maybe he had actually left because he couldn't sleep on a bed. I felt my mood drop; but I quickly accounted it to hunger and forced a better mood upon myself.

I was out of the asylum, with nothing dangerous or risky planned, back in the world of crime and adrenaline where I belonged. _Home at last. _But if I _was_ back where I belonged, why the hell did I feel like something was missing? How could I be somewhere that was so familiar to me and so heartwarming, and yet somehow not _enough_? For years I had come here and I had felt so at peace and so content and complete; but, now, it was like I was a jigsaw puzzle, and my most crucial piece was missing.

I scowled and slid out of bed, not bothering to change out of the baggy top and shorts I wore for pyjamas - it wasn't like anyone was going to see me. _There's that bloody bad mood again! Why am I so depressed over not having any company?_ Surely I wasn't disappointed that Edward wasn't going to be there when I walked into the living room? That would just be absurd and wrong and-

_The truth._

_Shut the fuck up, would you?_

I tore my bedroom door open and stomped through to the kitchen, glancing at the couches in my living room. Nothing appeared disturbed, and there certainly wasn't a question-mark-suited man lying there. My feet faltered briefly, and I stood staring at where he would have slept. _Maybe I **am** disappointed because he's not here. But why? _

_Because he's intriguing and genuinely interested in you - even if it's just because you're a riddle to him - and he **is ** intelligent and handsome-_

_Oh, shit. No, he's not handsome._

I looked away and began searching my cupboards and fridge for something to eat. Unfortunately there was nothing substantial, so I ended up just standing with my hands clutching the edge of the counter and a million emotions whirling through my head. There _was_ _one_ bonus to Edward's absence: no arrogant rambling.

Suddenly my front door opened behind me. "There are police everywhere. I could have taken the six that approached me, obviously; but I just purchased a basket of groceries and-"

I must have had the most flabbergasted expression plastered across my features as I watched Edward saunter through the doorway, eyes on the battered box of eggs in his hands, until he finally looked up to meet my gaze and stopped dead in his tracks. I _tried_ to regain my composure - key word "tried" - and managed to choke out: "What? Did you walk into the wrong criminal's appartment?" No matter how conflicted I felt and how powerfully contrasting emotions were smashing against each other in my head, I had to keep in control.

His eyes flickered over my body before he swallowed and met my gaze again. "Where's your suit?" he asked.

I quirked an eyebrow, the comment settling my mind. "I'm not gonna wear that to bed," I scoffed. "Plus, you ruined it, so I can't wear it anymore."

He stood dumbly staring at me, a frown creasing his forehead. "Put on more clothes."

My interest sparked and I smirked. "Am I making you uncomfortable, Edward?" I purred, taking a few steps towards him.

He smirked right back at me and took a few steps of his own, kicking the door shut behind him. He stood a few feet away, his bright blue eyes looking down at me. "Of course not," he said. "I'm not affected by the feminine physique as other, lesser, men are."

"Pity," I shrugged, taking the box of eggs from his hands.

The smirk faded into a suspicious and curious narrowing of his eyes. "Why? Do you _want _ me to be affected?" he had taken another step closer, so that the egg box was almost touching his stomach.

I leaned up towards his ear, noticing how his entire body tensed and he held his breath. I smirked to myself, and let out a small exhale, hearing him let out a heavy one straight after my breath tickled his skin. "Don't flatter yourself," I murmured. When I pulled back, I eyed his angry scowl with an amused grin. "I was talking about the eggs."

With that, I turned away from him and walked over to the counter, placing the egg box down. When I turned to get a frying pan, I walked straight into his hard chest. His hands flew to the edge of the counter, cornering me. He leaned in close, our noses nearly touching, and watched me attentively. My breath had caught in my throat from the surprise, and now it refused to go back out.

I struggled to maintain a calm expression and crossed my arms, my bare skin touching the material of his shirt. "What are you doing?" I sighed.

"Investigating," he murmured, his eyes flicking between mine.

When they glanced at my lips, I sucked in even more air and my fingers dug into my skin. "Investigating what?" I asked just as quietly.

A slow smirk formed on his lips as his eyes bore into mine. He ignored my question, instead asking one if his own. "Am I making you uncomfortable, Kenna?" he breathed.

He was using my words. _Why? _ "I thought you were smarter than that, Edward."

He grinned widely - which was a little unsettling. "Perhaps uncomfortable is the wrong word... how about excited? Enthralled? Arou-"

I brought my palm up and ignited a flame between us that burned dangerously, making him jerk away from me. "Finish that sentence and you'll be nothing but a pile of ash," I growled.

He stood watching me through the twisting and turning of the flame, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Uneasiness creates hostility," he murmured to himself. "I wonder," he began louder, his eyes flicking between the flame and my face, "Does the girl create the fire... or does the fire create the girl?"

And with that, he walked away.

* * *

Nothing else was said for a good few hours after that. He sat unmoving on the couch, watching mindless television, while I sat on my bed, my mind going into overdrive. I didn't understand why he was still there. Yes, he wanted to figure me out; but how was he supposed to do that when he wasn't even talking to me? And what was with him continuously invading my personal space? _Arrogant, self-centred, prick._

A loud rumble from my stomach reminded me that I still hadn't eaten anything. So, not without reluctance, I got up and dragged myself out of my room towards my kitchen. "Do you want some fried eggs?" I asked Edward, my voice a little groggy from the lack of use.

"Yes, please," he replied, his eyes remaining glued to the screen.

I rolled my eyes but otherwise left it alone. Fifteen minutes of nothing but the noise of the television later, the eggs were done and I put them on slices of toast. I handed Edward his plate, acknowledging his "thank you", and sat on the other couch. He was watching the news, which was still babbling on about the escaped crazies from the asylum - a.k.a us.

"Police continue to claim they are in control of the situation; but so far we have seen none of the escapees readmitted to the asylum," a news reporter was saying. "So, for now, Gotham remains susceptible to the criminal acts of the following rogues: The Joker, Two-Face, Catwoman, The Riddler, and Scarecrow."

I scowled at the TV. "Seriously? I don't even get a brief mention?"

"The public is also warned to stay away from this woman, Kenna Fyrian." My Arkham Asylum Profile Picture appeared on the screen, and I grinned happily. "Before being admitted to the asylum she was often the cause for most of the devastating fires Gotham experienced. And, now, after being around the other rogues, she seems to have become worse. Witnesses claim she can shoot fire from her hands, and she now wears a dark red suit with a golden pheonix stitched into the back. This leads us to assume that her alias is The Pheonix, or something similar. Witnesses have also claimed to have seen her walking with Edward Nygma, otherwise known as The Riddler." A picture of the two of us appeared. It was after we hung Penguin up at the courthouse yesterday. "We're not sure what their connection is - whether it is purely criminal or has an element of romance in it - but the public is warned to stay away from the both of them. Together they are very dangerous."

_A romantic connection between Edward and I? That's as likely as Harley Quinn killing Joker._

Edward muted the television. "Well..." he trailed off, clearing his throat.

"They certainly like to jump to conclusions," I muttered angrily.

"They _are_ correct though."

My head snapped around to look at him. "About what?" I asked cautiously.

He looked at me with an unamused expression. "The romance," he deadpanned. "Really, Kenna. Obviously I meant the part where she spoke of us being dangerous together."

I quirked an eyebrow at him. "Are you suggesting we team up for a criminal act?"

"That or we each go with the other to see what criminal acts they do."

I rolled my eyes and walked over to the sink. "This is just so you can try to figure me out, isn't it?"

"Of course it is."

"Of course it is," I repeated. Nothing he was ever going to do with or for me would be for my benefit. All the times he got close to me, all the times he had asked me questions and spoke to me, they were all so that he could try and figure out his puzzle. They were never going to be because he wanted to be close to me, or because he wanted to know more about me purely because he genuinely liked me. _Now I feel quite stupid._

Once more, I felt my mood sink. "I'm tired of this."

"Of what?" he asked, walking towards me.

I turned to face him. "Of being your puzzle."

He appeared confused. "You shouldn't be - it's giving you more time with my brilliant mind; you might be learning things."

I scowled. "I'm tired of you hanging around me just because you can't leave a puzzle unsolved."

"Would you rather me being around you because I genuinely wanted to be there?"

"It's certainly an improvement."

He stepped closer, coming within a few feet of me again. "What if I told you I'm staying here because I _do_ want to be around you?"

"I'd say that you're lying to make me more comfortable so that information about my past comes more easily."

He looked a little disappointed - couldn't tell you why - and I decided then that I needed a break from being around him. I brushed past him, changed my shorts into skinny jeans, and went out the front door, ignoring his shouts. Who cared if the public had seen my face? I could handle myself.

At least, that's what I thought until a group of thugs moved in on me. _Well, this will be fun, especially with my still-healing bullet wound._


	12. Chapter 12

**Hiya folks, another chapter for The Phoenix here! As always, thank you for the new favourites and the follows, and replies to the reviews can be found at the bottom of the chapter. **

**I hope those who are interested have checked out my Legolas/OC story - hint hint to those who haven't - and for those looking for the Altair/OC story, I'm thinking about waiting until this story's done before I put it up. I don't want to put too much on my plate right now and end up disappointing people, so from now on I think I'll attend to two stories at a time, if that.**

**Enjoy the chapter!**

**DISCLAIMER: I literally own nothing but Kenna.**

* * *

**Chapter 12**

_I really shouldn't have come outside._ My bullet wound was still throbbing, and I knew that it would only hurt more if I started swinging my arm about. Not to mention the fact that you could clearly see the bandage below my short-sleeved shirt, and the thugs would most likely – if they were intelligent enough – target that to weaken me. And it's not like Edward would be able to help me because, first off, I was in an empty alleyway a few minutes away from my apartment, and, secondly, he wasn't one for physical fighting.

I supposed that everything wasn't too bad though – I mean, I could still shoot fire out of my hands so that was bound to give me _some_ advantage.

"The boss wants to speak to you, Fyrian," one of the thugs said gruffly. The other five stood behind him, and none of them seemed to be about to attack me.

Cocking my head to the side, I looked at them. The supposed leader was wearing a black balaclava, with large white patches around his eyes. "And your boss is Penguin, I assume." He nodded. "Why does he want to speak with _me_?" I asked, putting on an innocent face.

"Because you destroyed his hideout and hung him up for the whole city to see, dumb bitch!" another thug spat.

"Sheesh, _someone_ pissed the bed this morning." The leader had to hold him back from running at me. I smirked, but then something dawned on me. "Did he not get taken in by the cops?"

"We managed to distract them long enough for him to get away. Bats went after you two but obviously couldn't find you," the leader replied.

"Well, I'm a little busy right now, so you can tell your boss that what happened wasn't anything personal. I owed Edward, and that was the only way I was able to pay him back at the time." I gave him a forced smile and turned away. I walked down to the end of the alleyway; but before I could escape it, another bunch of thugs sauntered in and cut me off. _Shit._

"I'm _pretty_ sure the boss would prefer to hear that message from you, personally," the leader called, his heavy footsteps echoing across the walls. "Face to face."

_Even with my fire it'll be hard to take all these guys on..._ "We can't always get what we want," I shrugged, looking back at him.

He shook his head slowly, smirking. "When you're as rich and as feared as Penguin, you _always_ get what you want."

"There's a first time for everything."

"Listen here," he sneered. "There's no way you can take all of us on and get out of this alive. We're taking you to Penguin, and there's nothing you can do about it, _Phoenix_."

Even though he was mocking my alias, I felt a rush of power surge through me from being addressed as it. "You're not taking me anywhere."

"Then you'll just have to die," he grinned sinisterly.

As soon as he took one step forward, something large and black swooped down over my head and slammed into him. The caped figure knelt on the ground in the moment of silence, until someone shouted: "It's the Bat! Get him!"

Then chaos erupted. The thugs charged passed me and I took a few steps back, watching as Batman beat the living daylights out of them. _Shit, he's getting through them quickly. Time to go!_

I turned on my heel and bolted from the alleyway, running the moment through my head to make sure I hadn't felt anything that could have been a tracker slapped on my back or something. Nothing came back to me; but that didn't stop me from feeling suspicious. _Do I go back to the apartment now and risk having its location discovered, or do I go somewhere else and wait a while to see if he follows me?_

In the end it didn't matter.

I ran into someone's rock-hard chest, and would have fallen on my ass if two strong arms hadn't wrapped around my waist and pulled me flush against them. "What in the world is going on?" a familiar voice demanded above my head.

_He's __**muscular**__?! _"Edward?"

"Kenna, who are you running from and why?" he asked, bringing a hand up to hold my chin and inspect my face. "Are you hurt? Did someone hurt you?"

"No, I-ˮ

His eyes had snapped to something behind me and his entire body tensed in rage. I whirled around to see Batman standing in the mouth of the alleyway, his cape floating to the side in the gentle breeze. Edward's arms fell from my waist and he took a step forward. "If you touched her, I'll kill you," he said, his voice suddenly lower.

My eyebrows shot up and I looked at Edward's face. I'd never seen him so angry before, not even when Joker had left us in the asylum. Apparently Batman was also slightly surprised. "Looks like you've become attached, Riddler," he said. "But I'm going to have to separate you both. You're going back to the asylum, and she'll be placed in a different area."

"She's my puzzle – she's not going anywhere without me until I solve her."

I could just make out a smirk on Batman's face. "Since when did you live with your puzzles?" _Fuck, he's seen us in my apartment... Now I've got nowhere to go._

We needed to get out of here before either Batman made his move or Edward's unpredictable rage caused him to become physical. There was a restaurant nearby, filled with a load of innocent people. _Bingo_. It occurred to me that Edward hadn't seen me use my ability, although it had been mentioned on the news when we were watching it; but there wasn't any time to give him a quick briefing of how it worked. I shot a huge ball of fire towards the restaurant, and it exploded on impact, engulfing the place in flames. In order to provide an opportunity for our escape, I was going to have to leave the fire there and just deal with my sudden drop of energy. Batman bolted over to the people and I instinctively grabbed a hold of Edward's hand, dragging him away as I sprinted from the scene.

How long and how far we ran I'll never know; all I _did_ know was that I couldn't let go of Edward's hand for some reason, and I wouldn't be able to run for much longer. I was stumbling every third step, my breathing was heavy and irregular – although that didn't make much difference to me – and my vision was slowly darkening. Then, suddenly, I couldn't go on anymore.

I leant down on one knee, a hand against the ground, and blinked furiously in attempt to get my eyesight back. I had used more energy than was necessary to fuel the fire, and now I was definitely paying for it. Edward pulled at my hand, and then knelt down when he realised I couldn't go anywhere. He put his free hand on my shoulder, and then his voice met my ears; but it was muffled and incoherent. I managed to look up at him in confusion and realised that he appeared to have two heads. _Huh, that's weird._ Darkness was clouding my vision, and with a sudden burst of clarity, I knew I needed to tell him how to make me better. "Fire," I whispered hoarsely. "I need fire." And then everything went back.

* * *

Edward kicked open the door to one of his hideouts, kind of breaking in to his own place, with a limp Kenna in his arms. Her head was leaning against his chest, one hand gripping his shirt, while the other hung limply at her side. His mind was in turmoil – he was absolutely enraged by the prospect that Batman might have hurt her; he was utterly confused as to _why_ he would be so enraged; he was irritated by the voice in the back of his head telling him _exactly_ why he was enraged; and he was worried about Kenna.

There wasn't much point trying to deny it now. At first it had just been an attraction – how could there not have been? She was beautiful and mysterious – but now, after spending time with her and learning how her mind worked, he was _attached_. The idea both repulsed and intrigued him. After all, he hadn't come to feel that way about a woman in many, many years, so he knew there was something different, something unique about Kenna that set her apart from everyone else.

He laid her gently on his double bed – a great improvement from the single bed in her apartment – and looked at her. He didn't know if he liked her face when she slept – she still looked guarded and closed-up; and he couldn't see her eyes. He liked her eyes, they were a deep, dark brown with little flecks of dark red in them. It was as if the fire was a _part_ of her, not just something she could control.

That reminded him of her words before she passed out, and he went to get a box of matches from his kitchen. He lit one, watching as the flame sparked to life, and then sat by her side holding the match. He had no idea what he was supposed to do. Did he just hold it there? Or did he have to press it against her skin? Put it in her mouth, maybe? He didn't want to do anything that could hurt her, so he just stuck with sitting uncomfortably holding the match and watching her face for any signs of her waking up. "I feel absurd," he muttered grumpily.

Suddenly the flame detached itself from the match and wormed through the air towards Kenna until it melted into her skin. Edward's eyebrows had disappeared under his hairline. Maybe the fire _was_ a part of her..

He lit another match and watched as it did the same as the first. He didn't know how many times he was supposed to do this, so he ended up concluding that he should continue until the flame didn't go into her.

He used the whole box. All of the used matches lay on the bedside table next to her, and he put the box there as well. He was reminded then of when they were in the asylum, the morning after he gave her the matches. She had used most of them, and looked so much brighter and happier. He hoped that all the matches he had used would be enough, and wondered what to do next. He didn't know how long it would take her to wake up - and there was also the question of if she _would_ actually wake; but thinking about that made his stomach churn - and he wasn't comfortable with leaving her alone when she was so vulnerable, so he did the one thing he could.

* * *

I woke up lying on my side as usual, looking at an unfamiliar wall and bedside table. On the table lay what looked like a whole box of used matches; but I couldn't for the life of me remember using them. _Where the hell am I?_ Frowning at my headache, I rolled over onto my other side.

"Holy fuck!" I yelled out, jumping so violently I fell off the side of the bed onto the carpet below. Edward shot up and looked at me in shock, his eyes wide and his lips parted. "Jesus c_hrist_, Edward," I gasped, pushing myself up onto my feet and clutching my chest. "Gave me a goddamn heart attack." I stalked out of the room, taking in the sight of the bigger apartment, and found myself in some sort of living room/office.

There was a couch facing a big TV on one side, while on the other there was a desk supporting two monitors and a keyboard. A computer was placed underneath the desk and a wheelie chair was positioned in front of it. On the wall behind the desk there were newspaper clippings of Batman and several rogues, and a map of Gotham. There was also a clock that read one in the morning. _Great_.

"How do you feel?"

I turned to look at Edward with a frown. "Did you kidnap me?"

He looked bewildered. "No... don't you remember what happened? With Batman and the restaurant?"

Seeing his clenched fists suddenly had everything flooding back to me. _So that's why I don't remember using the matches.. Edward did it for me._ "Oh, yeah," I nodded. "Yeah, I'm better now." He nodded too, and held my gaze, making me unable to look away _again_. There was something in his eyes that almost looked like relief, a _genuine_ relief, and it allowed my treacherous mind to let slip one fleeting thought: _does he care about me? _There was a weird, fluttery sensation in my chest, and I realised that I really wanted him to care about me. **_Why_**_?!_

_Because you care about him too._

This time I didn't argue with my mind. I was too shocked to think, say or do anything. Because it was right – I cared about Edward Nygma, and for some reason that felt _okay_.

"You should get some rest," he said quietly. I nodded, but made no move to go anywhere. I couldn't. "We're going to have to share the bed; but it's big enough for the both of us."

There was that damn fluttery feeling again. I needed to regain control of myself. "What, you don't have a spare room?"

He grinned and started back towards his bedroom. Once he slipped from my view I heaved a sigh and slapped a hand to my forehead. _What the hell is __**wrong**__ with me? This is going to make things so much harder.._ What would happen when he finally figured me out? He'd leave, and I'd be left alone and depressed because I'd liked him more than he'd ever liked me. _**Why**__ do I have to like him like that? I hate feeling like a little love-struck girl._

Maybe if I ignored the feeling it would go away? _Yes! That's what I'll do!_

Feeling proud, I made my way towards his bedroom. However, I stopped as soon as I reached the doorway, my jaw dropping.

Edward's shoulders and head were currently hidden by the top he was pulling over himself; but his lower torso was exposed. I had once called him "Scrawny little Riddler" – I'd never been so wrong before. He didn't have a six-pack or anything, no. He just had muscular arms and a slim torso, and above the band of his boxers, he had the 'V-lines'. It was an image I had _never_ anticipated. It didn't seem right; but at the same time, it _really_ did – because he _was_ very good-looking. This was going to make my feelings so much worse.

"Kenna?"

My eyes snapped up to his face, and a slow smirk grew on his thin lips. "I'm surprised, that's all," I muttered, scowling. "I thought you were scrawny."

"_Pleasantly_ surprised?" he teased, going into his drawer.

_Oh hell no._ "Don't start, Edward. It was just surprise – nothing more, nothing less."

He brought out a pair of boxers and a purple shirt, and tossed them over to me. "Wear them."

I went into the bathroom to do as he said – not because he told me to; but because I didn't want to sleep in the clothes I was already wearing. His boxers went to mid-thigh, and his shirt stopped just above them. I had to roll the cuffs back a few times for the sleeves to fit me, and then I pulled my hair up into a bun to get it out of my face. However, a few strands decided to be difficult assholes and remained hanging down.

I went back into the bedroom and put my clothes down next to the bedside table, and then got into his bed._ I'm in Edward Nygma's bed. This isn't weird at __**all**_. I glanced over at him, and scowled at the unreadable expression on his face. "What?" _Oh, how I'd love to know what he's thinking in that brilliant head of his._

_Oh, great, now I'm under the impression that he's smarter than everyone else too._

He swallowed and shook his head. "Nothing." He turned his back to me and reached over to switch off the lamp at his side, engulfing the room in darkness.

I sighed but left it alone, opting instead to turn my back to him too. Then something occurred to me, and I mentally slapped myself. _So ungrateful. _"Hey, Edward?"

He shifted slightly before answering. "Yes?"

"Thank you."

It was quiet for a moment, and I almost thought he wouldn't reply; but then: "Anytime, Kenna." It sounded like he genuinely meant it. I felt the fluttery feeling in my chest again, but this time, instead of getting irritated by it, I smiled and closed my eyes.

* * *

**There you go! Hope you enjoyed the chapter and things aren't getting boring or anything.**

**Time to reply to reviews.**

**booklover1598****: thank you so much for staying with the story and coming back to it after such a long wait! And thank you again for your kind words. Hahaha, believe me, I wanted to make them kiss too; but I don't want it to be too soon and it's always better when there's been a long wait, I think.**

**KatieHerveaux****: thank you for sticking with the story! Hope you enjoyed the chapter:)**

**See y'all next time, folks!**


	13. Chapter 13

**Another chapter here! Thanks to all the reviews, favourites and follows and welcome to the new readers:)**

**Enjoy the chapter.**

**DISCLAIMER: I own nothing but Kenna.**

* * *

**Chapter 13**

The bed was empty when I woke up the next morning; but that was no surprise. The box of matches had been cleaned away from my bedside table, and my clothes were folded neatly in a pile on the floor. _They look... ironed._ I picked them up and brought them to my nose. Judging by the clean smell, Edward had washed them for me. Cocking an eyebrow at his behaviour, I went into the bathroom and got changed into the baggy top and skinny jeans.

His hideout consisted of his bedroom, a bathroom, the living room/office, and a kitchen. I checked all of these rooms and found that he was in none of them. On the front door he had stuck a post-it note – a bright green one, of course. I walked over and snatched it from the wood. "'Kenna, I've gone out.' No shit, Sherlock. 'It is my intention to keep you here until I solve you; but I realise that you'll probably just destroy my door to get out. If you're thinking about doing that, please take into consideration that I left the door unlocked. Edward.'"

Eyes narrowed suspiciously, I read and reread the note over and over again. He was assuming that I wanted to leave, so, naturally, my conclusion was that I'd stay. _But what if he knew you'd decide to stay... and he wrote that so you __**would**__? _I needed time to think, and something to fuel my brain.

There was another post-it on the fridge door and, this time, it was a riddle. "'You can have me but cannot hold me; gain me and quickly lose me. If treated with care I can be great, and if betrayed I will break. What am I?'" My groggy mind took a few moments to think of an answer. "Trust," I spoke aloud. Then I frowned. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"It means he trusts you." I whirled around to face the new voice, and stood gawping at Scarecrow. He was wearing casual clothes, his hands clasped in front of him, with no sign of his mask. "Phoenix," he smirked. A cold shiver ran down my spine.

"Scarecrow," I replied.

He took a deep breath and shut the door behind him. "Edward is a... _complicated_ person," he began as he moved to sit down on the couch.

"Did he send you here to tell me this?" I asked.

"No, I came over to speak with him but it appears he is elsewhere. Do you happen to know where he's gone?"

"He just said that he was going out," I shrugged, watching the man wearily.

"Pity," he sighed. "Now, where was I? Ah, yes. Edward is a complicated person. It's hard to know what's going on in that head of his. I'm about the only person he can call 'friend' – and even that is a bit generous for our relationship – but that means we share a mutual trust. It's an unspoken revelation." He was quiet for a moment. "I'm the only person he trusts, as far as I know; but now he has decided to _tell_ you that you have his trust. Did you tell him anything similar?"

"No."

"Fascinating..." he murmured, looking off into space contemplatively. I watched his every move, knowing that he was every bit as unpredictable as Edward, but far more dangerous. "I'm not quite sure what to make of this," he finally said. "I knew in the asylum that he had a... _fixation_ on you and your past; but I did not anticipate _this_."

The emphasis on "this" had me looking at him curiously. "And what exactly _is_ 'this'?"

He stood and wiped imaginary dirt from his trousers before he looked at me with a secretive smirk. "I'm afraid it's not my place to say, Miss Fyrian. It seems that this is every bit as new to _you_ as it is to _him_, so I shall leave it to you both to figure out in your own time." He walked to the desk and stood looking at the newspaper clippings. "The front door was unlocked."

"He assumed I wanted to leave so he left it unlocked instead of having it destroyed," I replied distractedly, scowling at the floor as I struggled to analyse his words.

Scarecrow chuckled. "He _is_ quite clever, isn't he?"

My eyes snapped to the side of his face. "Yeah, he is."

I left the apartment.

* * *

I'd been out for hours, thankfully without bumping into any thugs. The people of Gotham were too busy on their phones or hailing cabs that walking through the streets was surprisingly easy. But I wasn't really concentrating on that. My mind was too busy trying to figure out just _how_ strong my feelings for Edward were, and occasionally I would go through my memories and see if there was anything he did that hinted at his feelings – however, it seemed his feelings were a book that I couldn't read. Scarecrow's words did nothing to help me.

_So, he __**trusts**__ me now... God only knows why._ I didn't even know if _I_ trusted _him_. I mean, how was I supposed to know if all he was doing was just a trick to get me to spill information? Or if some of the things he did was unintentional because his hypothetical feelings were getting in the way? I didn't like getting my hopes up because all that meant was disappointment and pain, so I just stuck with the former explanation. It was safe that way.

I also came to make another decision. Edward was going to leave me alone as soon as he had me figured out, I knew that; but I _also_ knew that the longer I stayed with him, the stronger my feelings would grow. I only had one choice: I had to tell him everything sooner rather than later.

_All this thinking is getting right on my fucking nerves._

I made my way back to his hideout, wondering if Scarecrow was still there, or whether Edward had even come back from wherever he was. When I opened the door, I saw both of them in the apartment. Scarecrow was lounging on the couch, and Edward had his hands braced against his desk, his head hanging low.

Their gazes snapped to me as soon as I walked in, and then there was a moment of tense silence. I didn't dare look away from Edward – his eyes were burning with an intense anger. "_Where_ have you _been_?" he growled out.

That pissed me off. _He_ left and all he gave _me_ was a note saying that he was going out. What made him think that he could do that and I couldn't? I quirked my eyebrow and crossed my arms over my chest. "Out," I replied simply.

Within the blink of an eye he had grabbed my upper arms and slammed me against the wall. "Don't," he warned, his voice low and threatening.

"Why the hell _not_?" I hissed, leaning in close. I'd forgotten everything I'd been thinking about before, and everything that was around us. I was angry now, _really_ angry.

"I have to know where you are," he muttered, "You're my puzzle."

I let out a bitter laugh and my head dropped back against the wall, my eyes leaving his. "What a fucking privilege."

His grip tightened. "Kenna."

I looked back at him, briefly glancing at his pursed lips and clenched jaw. "I never asked to be your puzzle. I never _wanted_ this. So why the hell should I do what you say?"

"Because I control you right now."

My hands shot up but he grabbed my wrists with both hands and slammed them out to the sides, palms against the wall. The action caused his face to come closer to mine, and he took a step forward so that our bodies were nearly touching. I felt weak at the knees because of it, despite my rage; but I pushed that away and focused on how powerless I felt. I wasn't in control, and I hated it – I hated _him_ at that moment. So I told him. "I hate you." It was a whisper, but he could hear it.

His scowl deepened and his eyes flicked between mine, as if searching for something to say that I was lying. "No, you don't." He didn't sound convinced.

"Before you decided to make me your puzzle my life was blissfully simple. I had one friend, lots of jobs, and I hardly ever thought about my past. But, _now_, I don't even know what to call you, I have _no_ jobs because I'm stuck with you, and my past is _constantly_ niggling at me. I've never had to _think_ so much before; I'm over-thinking and overanalysing _everything_ you do, every _fucking _thing, and it's so goddamn _exhausting_! So, yes, I do. I hate you."

His grip tightened on my wrist. "Do you think this is easy for _me_?" he asked quietly, obviously trying to keep his anger in check. "Trying to figure you out is one of the hardest challenges I've ever faced; if you would just _stop_ being so _inscrutable _then this would be done and you'd be rid of me."

I hit my head against the wall several times with a frustrated groan. When I looked back at him he seemed angrily confused. "My past isn't something I can easily come out with, you know. There's only one person who knows everything that's ever happened to me, not including myself, and it took a long time before I was able to share it with them. Being the way you are – all guarded and unrevealing – isn't going to quicken the process. I find myself questioning every single _little_ thing you do, wondering if you do it because you have some ulterior motive, or because you genuinely want to do it! It's so _fucking_ confusing!" I exclaimed.

"It's not my fault you keep distracting me!" he snapped. His eyes widened suddenly as if he hadn't meant to say that, and my anger died down a little in confusion. He was watching me with something like dread and anticipation, and his grip tightened again. Now that some of the anger had gone, my mind was focusing on the fact that nearly every part of our bodies below the neck were touching, and I was finding it hard to concentrate on anything other than that – which was irritating when I wanted to know what he meant.

Someone cleared their throat off to the side, and Edward let go of me, taking a step back as we looked to Scarecrow. "I'll just leave you to it," he smirked, passing by us to walk out the door.

The sound of it closing echoed throughout the silent apartment and I closed my eyes with a heavy sigh, leaning my head back against the wall. Edward was silent; but I heard him move over to sit on the couch. "I don't trust you," I told him, keeping my eyes closed. "But having you know my past is better than... _this_ – whatever it is." This was it. I was going to tell him, he'd nod and say: "Damn, I was _so_ close to figuring you out! Oh well, thanks, bye!" and I'd leave and we'd never talk to each other again. It hurt, knowing that; but it would only hurt more if I left it any longer.

So, clenching my fists and keeping my eyes tightly shut the entire time, I told him everything. I told him about how my father was a deranged lunatic who I hardly ever saw; I told him about how my mother would often scream at me for the littlest things; I told him about how she'd actually hit me a few times; I told him of the experiment, of how my body worked after that, my foster parents, Selina, my criminal life, the asylum, my death, the Titan, and my new abilities – I told him more than I'd even told Selina.

For a long, long time he was quiet. I had no idea what he was doing, because my eyes were still shut, but I knew that he hadn't moved an inch since I'd started. I wondered if his silence was a dismissal, my cue to leave his hideout and never come back. If it was, I was probably annoying him by ignoring it. "So, now you know," I said lamely. "And I'm not your puzzle anymore. This is over." I forced myself to give a sigh of relief, even though I was hurting _so _bad. I wished with everything I had that I hadn't realised my feelings for him, and that he'd never wanted me to be his puzzle – life would have been so much easier that way. I took a deep breath and opened my eyes, meeting his unreadable gaze. "Goodbye, Edward."

I left before he could say anything in return.

* * *

A few hours later, the sun had disappeared below the horizon and Gotham had been engulfed by darkness. I found Selina crouched upon the edge of a building, staring out into the city, and sat down next to her. "It's over," I said.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw her look at me. "What is?"

"Whatever was going on with Edward."

"Oh, so it's _Edward_ now, huh?" she smirked, nudging me teasingly. I winced at the implied idea, and she grew serious. "What the hell happened since I last saw you?"

I sighed heavily. "Everything got so complicated. I didn't want to have to deal with it anymore, so I told him everything and left."

She was quiet for a while. "You... you _told_ him? Just like that?"

"Like I said, everything got complicated."

"Why was it complicated?"

I dropped my head into my hands and groaned. "I like him, Selina."

"Oh, wow."

"Yeah."

"So you told him because you like him?"

I lifted my head again. "I knew that as soon as he had me figured out he'd leave, and that would hurt, so before I started liking him more, I got it over and done with," I shrugged. "I don't even trust him; but I couldn't stay with him any longer feeling the way I feel and knowing he didn't feel the same."

"Okay, firstly: you _say_ you don't trust him; but I think there's a part of you that does. As much as you hate it, Kenna, I know you, and I _know_ that you wouldn't tell him everything unless a part of you trusted him. And secondly: you don't know that he doesn't feel the same way about you. Or have you asked him?"

"I don't need to ask him! Everything he did – even if it made him _seem_ like he liked me – he did it so that I'd open up and tell him."

"And how do you know that?"

I faltered slightly. "Because he's Edward fucking Nygma! Since when does he _feel_ for people?"

"For someone who saunters around being flirty and confident, you're actually quite insecure, aren't you?"

I ran a hand through my hair. "There hasn't been anybody my entire life who's liked me like that, Selina."

"Well, Edward's not just anybody – at least, not to you, he isn't."

"That's going to have to change if I want my life to go back to normal."

"_Do_ you want that?"

"It would certainly make everything a lot easier."

She followed my gaze and looked out into the darkness. "Just so you know, I've heard things that imply that Edward thinks you're not just anybody, either."

I scoffed. "And who'd you hear that from?"

She smirked. "I have my sources."

"Selina."

"All I'm saying is Edward doesn't usually live with his puzzles, treat their bullet wounds, nurse them back to health, and wash their clothes, alright?"

"I wasn't like his other puzzles, though, I was more challenging, and he did all that stuff to try and gain my trust."

"No, you're not like his other puzzles," a new voice replied. It was deep and rumbling, and instantly set me in defence mode.

I jumped up and held my palms out before me, watching Batman's every move. Selina, however, slowly stood up and sauntered over to him, leaving about a foot between them. I lowered my hands when I realised all of his attention was on her.

"Being one of them myself," he continued talking to me, not looking away from Selina, "and having to save several of his other puzzles, I know that you're different to him."

Selina smirked over her shoulder at me. "See?" She then looked back to him. "Thanks for keeping an eye on her for me."

"Have you got what was promised in return?" he replied.

She took out a USB stick from inside the chest of her suit and put it in his open palm. "Information on the Penguin's hideouts."

"Thank you." He put it in his utility belt.

_What the fuck is going on?_

"You better do a good job this time," Selina teased. "Last time I had to kill some of his thugs just to get that information, and you managed to let him slip through your fingers."

"Were you the one that left the riddle?"

"No, there was some kid dressed like Edward who tried to pretend that _he_ was the one who killed the thugs."

Batman seemed to frown. "Another copycat." He looked off into the distance for a moment, and then looked back at her. "Thank you, Selina."

"Anytime, big guy," she purred, trailing a finger down his chest.

The corner of his lip twitched into a smirk, and then he was gone.

"Uh, what was _that_?" I asked Selina's back.

She turned to me with a smirk. "You're not the only rogue with an unusual relationship."


	14. Chapter 14

**Hey, guys! Another update has arrived for The Phoenix. Thanks to all the reviews, follows and favourites, as always - keep them coming!**

**Hope y'all enjoy this chapter.**

**DISCLAIMER: I own nothing but Kenna.**

* * *

**Chapter 14**

The pros and cons of being away from one Edward Nygma for nine days, brought to you by Kenna Fyrian. Pros include: the mending of one Phoenix outfit; the ability to continue a well-paid criminal job; the privilege to not have to listen to arrogant rambling; the joy of no thinking due to lack of riddles and one complicated asshole; and, finally, the ability to do whatever the hell one wishes to do. Cons include: not sharing one's bed with someone; missing the intrusion of one's personal space; a feeling of emptiness coupled with a desperate longing; and one everlasting foul mood.

"You miss him."

"Thank you for that, Captain Obvious."

"Kenna."

"Oh, sorry, _Queen_ Obvious."

"_Kenna._"

"What?"

"Don't get pissy with me or I _will_ hurt you."

I sighed and let my head fall back against the stone wall. Selina and I were sat on the roof of her hideout, watching as the sky grew dark. I was in my Phoenix outfit – the skin tight, crimson leather suit with the golden phoenix stitched into the back; the crimson leather boots; and the golden domino mask over my eyes. She was in her Catwoman getup, standing on the edge of the building.

Suddenly there was a light turned on, and Batman's symbol was projected into the sky. "Tough luck, boys," Selina smirked. "He's all mine tonight."

"I'm afraid not."

He emerged out of the shadows, completely ignoring my presence, and moved to stand by her side. She pouted disappointedly at him; but I could see the frustration in her eyes. "Are you cancelling our date?"

"Cobblepot can wait, Selina. Joker has to be my priority right now."

"You do realise this means you'll have to start again, right? Cobblepot won't be so easy to track now."

"I know."

They looked at each other for a moment before she turned away. "I won't be so easy to negotiate with next time."

His mouth turned down with a frown. "Selina–ˮ

Gunshots interrupted him, and she inspected her nails nonchalantly. "I suspect you're needed elsewhere." After a moment of scrutinising her expression, he turned and leapt off the building. Immediately her hand dropped and she turned to me with a sigh. "Now what do I do?" she pouted.

I stood up and dusted myself off. "Have you got anything personal against Penguin? I'd be up for humiliating him again."

"No, I was just helping Batman more for something fun to do." She stood looking out over the city. "Ever been to a Gotham bar, Kenna?" she asked suddenly, smirking.

"Can't say I have."

"Excellent."

* * *

We'd changed into simple skinny jeans and shirts, with our hair falling down over our shoulders, and were now seated in a booth in one of the many criminal-serving bars. The place was full of noisy, drunken mob members and lesser criminals, smoking and drinking and yelling and laughing. The lighting in the room was dim and the air was full of the smell of B.O and alcohol. I hated it, and I was also _certain_ that someone was watching me. "Can we go?"

"You haven't even started your drink," she smirked.

"I have a feeling I need my wits about me in this place," I commented, looking over the rough and rugged men.

"We're staying here until–ˮ

I looked at her. "Until what?"

She grinned. "Until we find a way for you to get over Edward."

I slapped a hand to my forehead. "I don't think you said that loud enough."

"Cheer up, Kenna. All you do is mope and moan all the time!"

"You've seen me twice in nine days and I only complained _once_."

"Actions speak louder than words, my friend."

"I knew I shouldn't have come here."

"Look, Kenna. To be honest with you, I think that you and Edward would actually be a good couple. Sure you wouldn't be an average couple; but you can't really ask for that when at least one of you is a criminal."

"Can we just stop talking about it?" I said. "I wanna forget it all."

"Things don't work that way, kiddo."

The door to the bar opened and Harley Quinn came waltzing in with two of Joker's thugs. "Hey, bozos!" her high-pitched voice yelled. The majority of the bar fell silent and looked at her. "Party time's over! Mistah J wants everyone back _now_!" There were several groans; but everyone belonging to the Joker paid for their drinks – or didn't pay, in a criminal fashion – and left the bar. Suddenly Harley saw us. "Hiya, girlies!" she called, grinning.

"Whatever you do, don't insult Joker," Selina murmured, before smiling back at Harley. "Hey, Harley."

The blonde bounced onto the seat next to Selina and gestured for a drink. "Long time no see, Kitty-cat!" She looked over at me. "Hey, Kenna! Thanks for helping Mistah J escape the asylum; and sorry about leaving you there – it wasn't personal or nothin', I swear! It's just the way things go around here."

I glanced at Selina's warning glare, hiding my clenched fists under the table because I didn't give a shit if it wasn't personal, it pissed me the hell off. "Don't worry about it," I forced out.

"Great! So, last I heard, you were bunkin' with Eddie, right?" She grinned at the bartender when he put her drink on the table.

I suppressed the wince that threatened to cover my face at his name and ignored the stab of pain in my chest. "Not anymore."

"What happened?" she frowned sadly.

_Why the hell is __**she**__ sad?_ "I was his puzzle, and he figured me out," I shrugged.

Her eyebrows rose and she looked at Selina. "Was I the only one who thought she was more than a puzzle to him?"

Selina smirked and gave me an 'I told you so' look. "No, I thought so too."

"Well, I wasn't. Obviously," I said, taking a drink.

"Aww," Harley pouted disappointedly. "I was rootin' for you guys. Thought you'd end up together or somethin'." I just shrugged. Suddenly she scowled. "Damn Eddie! Finally somethin' good came into his life and he let it get away!"

I frowned too. "What do you mean?"

"Look at you!" she exclaimed, gesturing to me. "You're smokin' hot _and_ you can put up with him, from what I hear!"

"Well, he's not as bad as everyone seems to think," I shrugged, ignoring the first remark.

She froze and narrowed her eyes at me, leaning over the table. I instinctively leant back. "Do you _like_ him?" she gasped.

_Oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit._ "No, of course not," I rolled my eyes. "He pisses me off all the time." _Nice one, Kenna, that wasn't even a lie!_

My gaze snapped to a guy walking past our table, clothed in a thick black jacket and a black bowler hat that covered most of his face. I inched away from the edge of my seat, remembering to be wary of the rowdy men who frequented this bar.

"Aw, man!" Harley's voice brought my attention back to the booth. "I thought you two would've been perfect for each other!"

_Well, that's what you get for making assumptions, sweetheart. _"I don't think so," I told her. Across the table, Selina was shaking her head. _I'm so done here._ "I'm gonna head back to my place. I'll see you later, Selina. Nice meeting you, Harley." I stood and started walking away.

"Right back atcha, Kenna!" Harley called enthusiastically.

Gotham's air actually seemed clean compared to the air in the bar, and it hit me like a freezing-cold tidal wave. Tucking my hands into my pockets, I turned right and headed down the street. My feet were running on automatic pilot, my mind being somewhere completely different.

I couldn't get him out of my head now, after talking about him for so damn long – his face, his eyes, his voice, his smell, his _touch_. I felt like a schoolgirl fawning over some guy in the year above, and I absolutely loathed it. I wasn't weak and pathetic and I most certainly did _not_ crave _love_. I was strong and capable and independent and–

_So fucking __**lonely**__._

Who was I kidding? Sure, I was okay before I went to the asylum, living a solitary life, only socialising with Selina on rare occasions; but _now_ it was different. And it was all because of _him_. With his stupid riddles and his stupid obsession with puzzles and his stupid face–

This wasn't getting me anywhere. I needed to take my mind off of him. Maybe I could move to another city? One that didn't have any other criminals, any vigilantes; one where I could be the only person to stand against the law and take control of the city. I deserved that, right?

_Oh, __**sure**__, cause you're the biggest badass out there, aren't you?_

_Shut up, I'm trying to cheer myself up._

_Good luck with that. You know you need–_

Hands roughly grabbed my upper arms and yanked me into an alleyway, pushing my back against the stone wall. I lifted my hands to blast them backwards, but my attacker caught my wrists and pinned them to my sides. _You think that'll stop me fighting back?_

"Kenna."

_No. No no no no no no no! __**NO!**_

I looked up, noticing that it was the guy that had walked past our table in the bar. Under the shadow of his bowler hat, I could just make out a pair of burning blue eyes. I instantly started struggling again.

"Kenna, stop!" he grunted.

"Get the fuck off me, Nygma," I growled.

His grip tightened and he slammed me against the wall, using his body to pin me there. "I told you to call me Edward," he stated, his voice wavering as he tried to contain his anger.

I stopped struggling and glared at him, ignoring the fucking fluttery feeling in my chest as every inch of our bodies from the neck down pressed against each other. "You shouldn't get so casual with a puzzle, Nygma. It gives off the wrong vibes."

He frowned. "What vibes have you been receiving?"

_Well, you walked right into that one, dumbass. _"The wrong ones."

"Kenna."

"Why are you even doing this?"

His jaw clenched and he glanced out the alleyway. "Cobblepot's after us."

"_Us_?"

He looked back at me with an irritated expression. "I wasn't the one who destroyed his hideout and hung him up in his underwear for all of Gotham to see, was I?"

"I wouldn't have done that if you hadn't been caught."

He closed his eyes. "Now is not the time for your childish attitude."

I gave him a glare. "Why can't he just let it go? I haven't gone chasing after Joker for leaving us in the asylum."

He opened his eyes again. "Because Cobblepot knows you're not as dangerous as he is."

My eyebrows shot up. "What the hell is _that_ supposed to mean?" I snapped.

Shock flitted across his face briefly before it turned to impatience. "He has a lot of men at his disposal, Kenna, he has power and influence; and you have your fire." I opened my mouth to retort but he beat me to it. "Fortunately, however, you also have me."

That stunned me into silence. I had to stop myself from over-analysing his words and getting my hopes up. "Fortunately?"

He sent me a brief glare. "Yes, fortunately. If you didn't have me, how could you have known that there is a group of Cobblepot's thugs waiting for you back at your apartment? Riddle me that."

"I could've just set fire to the building."

"They would have knocked you out before you took two steps." I rolled my eyes and struggled against him again. He pushed me back with a furious expression. "Cobblepot will _kill_ you, Kenna!"

"Why the fuck should it matter to you?" I exclaimed angrily. _Nice one, idiot. Oh well, I've started now so I should probably just keep going._ "I was just your puzzle, and then I told you everything, you figured me out, so why the hell have you come back to me? Why can't you leave me _alone_?"

"It's complicated, Kenna!" he snapped.

"How?" I raged. "You've managed to leave every other puzzle after you've solved it!"

"You're not like those other puzzles!"

"What the fuck am I supposed to make of that?"

His body tensed and he clenched his eyes shut tightly, his forehead pressing heavily against mine. My breath caught in my throat and my eyes widened, staring at him in anticipation. I'd never been so close to him – or anybody else for that matter – before. I never _allowed_ anyone to come so physically close; but I let _him_ do it, because I wanted it, I _needed_ it, even though I knew I couldn't get it for long.

His eyes opened again and he leaned back ever so slightly. "I've never attempted to discern someone the way I attempted to with you," he said. "Everything about this experience was completely unprecedented. The methods, the challenges, the conclusion..." He paused, frowning. "The feelings," he mumbled.

I swallowed. "What do you mean?"

His gaze went to his hand, and he watched it as he moved it from gripping my wrist to gripping my waist. My heart leapt in my chest and I inhaled quickly. He looked at his hand, an expression of slight wonder on his face. "Riddle me this," he said quietly. "And you'll have your answer. If you break me, I do not stop working. If you touch me, I may be snared. If you lose me, nothing will matter. What am I?"

There were so many emotions in his eyes, more intense than I'd ever seen before. Determination, anticipation, caution, dread – I wondered what the other ones were that I couldn't identify, and I wondered _why_ they were all there. _Figure out his riddle, you buffoon! _

But I couldn't. If I figured out his riddle, then he might take a step back, or leave forever; and I didn't want this moment to end, as cliché as that sounded.

In the end it wasn't my answer that separated us. It was the sudden, unexpected attack that had us both falling to the ground unconscious.

_Bollocks._


	15. Chapter 15

**Oh man, I'm so sorry for this wait, seriously. It's my last year at school and I'm doing English at the highest level and I should stop making excuses but I really am sorry! To anyone who actually comes back and reads this: thank you so much for sticking with this story.**

**It's coming to a close now, I think, so y'all won't have to wait weeks to get a new chapter. Can't decide whether the next chapter is the last, or if I'll try squeezing any other action-packed shit in there; but whatever the decision I'll obviously let you know.**

**Hope you enjoy!**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own anything to do with Batman.**

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**Chapter 15**

My head was pounding furiously, and the painfully bright light directed at my eyes wasn't helping even in the slightest. When I tried to cover my eyes with a hand, I found that it was chained to the chair I was sitting on – as was the other – so that my palm was facing down. My ankles were also chained to the legs of the chair.

"Nice of you to join us, _Phoenix_," said a cocky English voice.

I groaned. "This day just keeps getting better and better."

"Don't worry, there's even more to come," he said darkly.

The light in front of me was turned off, and before my eyes could adjust to the endless darkness, ceiling lights were suddenly turned on, blinding me again. At the other end of the room, chained to another chair, sat Edward, with two of Penguin's thugs at his sides. He was watching Penguin warily, already sporting a bloody nose. "Edward, here, is being difficult," Penguin told me. "I want recompense for what you two did to me; but he's not feeling up to sharing."

"Yeah, people tend to feel that way when they're _chained to a fucking chair_," I snarled, pulling at my restraints.

Penguin, seeing my struggle, smirked and nodded at the bottom of my chair. "I'd be careful if I were you."

Following his gaze, I looked down. _Ah fuck._ Directly underneath the chair, fanning out in a wide puddle that covered any angle my palms could face, was something that greatly resembled gasoline. Although that wouldn't harm me, the problem was that whoever had deposited the gasoline had created a line of it connecting my puddle and a puddle underneath Edward's chair. If I used my fire, he would burn to death.

Sighing, I looked up at Penguin again. "So, I'm here because you want to try and appeal to my generous nature?" I asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"No."

"No? What then? I'm a decoration? A prize? You're tired of using matches?"

Penguin smiled a very, _very_ creepy smile, and shook his head slowly. "Oh, no... I've got something _special_ planned for you..." I suddenly felt sick, subtly pushing my thighs closer together.

"There is no need to punish Kenna," Edward spoke up, glaring at Penguin. "She only did what she did because she owed me."

Penguin grunted but otherwise ignored him. Instead, he started walking towards me. If not for the look in his eye, it would have been comical – the man was tiny, had the end of a glass battle over his eye, and was carrying a deep pink _umbrella_. "I've heard rumours," he said to Edward over his shoulder, smirking, "Rumours about you and this beautiful specimen." **_Specimen?! _**"Apparently you're a little bit... _attached_."

I snorted. "Nygma? Attached to someone other than himself? You must be _really _thick if you're believing that shit."

Next thing I knew, my head had snapped to the side and my cheek was stinging.

"Cobblepot!" Edward growled warningly.

I looked up at Penguin with an expression of pure hatred. _If only I wasn't chained up, you wouldn't __**dare**__ strike me you pathetic, underdeveloped turd. _

"Attachment makes you weak," the stupid little fuck teased Edward.

I was beginning to lose my head to my anger.

"Attachment makes you vulnerable."

He struck me again.

"_Cobblepot_!" Edward roared.

"Attachment makes you... _compliant_."

Something was attached to the back of my chair, and then I could hear something else being wheeled out from the darkness behind me. Edward's eyes zeroed in on the new object, and didn't look away for a long time. I heard it come to a halt behind me, and then Penguin came close again. "How did you do it?" he asked.

"Do _what_?" I snapped, struggling at the chains again. Oh, how I would have loved to pummel that ugly face into oblivion.

"Ensnare the heart of the genius," he smirked.

My chair gave a lurch as it rose into the air; the thing they attached to it must have been some sort of lift thing. Edward was struggling at his restraints, his face contorted in fury, and as my chair was lifted backwards over the object behind me, I soon found myself just as enraged – if not more – as him.

It was a huge tank of water.

"_Riddle me this_, Nygma: what happens when you drown a phoenix?" Penguin asked as my chair was raised higher.

"Don't do this," Edward growled.

"Wrong!" Penguin cackled. "The answer is: the same thing that happens to everything else!" There was a chorus of laughter from the thugs around the room. He let it go on for a moment, before he held up a hand and his face turned sour again. "Any last words?" he sneered, turning to face me.

"You're a worthless piece of shit."

"Drop 'er."

The chair fell through the air and landed in the water with a mighty splash, sinking rapidly until it hit the bottom of the tank. Every inch of my body was submerged in the freezing cold water, and I kept myself focused on my steady heartbeat, trying to ensure that I was thinking _calmly_ of a way to keep the water from drowning the fire in my veins.

Through the glass, I watched Penguin walk over to Edward, whose gaze was locked onto my face. I was going to die, I knew I was; but as long as he kept eye contact, as long as he didn't leave me to face this alone, I'd die happy – even if he didn't feel the same way, even if he never even knew, because anything between the two of us would be impossible anyway. He was Edward Nygma, the genius riddle-lover who everyone knew followed his brain rather than his heart; and I was just another one of his puzzles, cast aside after he'd figured me out.

Penguin's lips were moving; but Edward seemed unresponsive. It was like he knew what I needed, and he was actually going to give me it. A last act of kindness before–

Penguin's fist had just connected with Edward's nose, and a rage unlike any other I'd ever experienced surged through my body, igniting every cell in its wake. I let out a yell and struggled furiously against my restraints, my vision darkening with anger – or was it because the fire inside me was dying?

Penguin hit him again, and something within me snapped so powerfully I could have passed out. I felt boiling hot all over my body, and the chains around my wrists and ankles melted away and broke. I brought my arm back and shoved it as hard as I could towards the glass, vaguely noticing that my entire arm was on fire and evaporating the water closest to my skin.

The glass cracked. Everyone turned to look at me.

I pulled my arm back and punched the glass again, breaking it. The water rushed out of the tank as I held onto the sides so as to not get carried away with it, and as soon as it was all out in the room, I stepped onto the soaking floor. Briefly glancing down at my body, I saw that every inch of skin was alight with bright red flames.

As Penguin's thugs started running at me, I shot fireball after fireball at them, sending them flying backwards into the walls. I was stalking towards Penguin now, watching him with a sneer as he backed up behind Edward, his eyes wide with panic. I had never loathed someone as much as I did him at that moment – I had only felt such pure, intense, unwavering rage towards my father. "Not so brave now, are you?" I snarled, passing Edward's chair.

"One – one day I'll – I'll–ˮ he stuttered. I threw such a large, powerful fireball at him he went flying backwards through the stone wall into the corridor behind it.

Hearing struggling behind me, I turned to see Edward pulling at his restraints as the gasoline in the water burst into flames. They were quickly absorbed, however, bringing my energy levels back up again. I stalked over to Edward, grabbed the metal over his wrists and pulled, snapping them away. After doing the same to his ankle restraints, I started for the Penguin-sized hole in the wall and stepped through the gap into the rubble beyond it, hatred still coursing through me.

"Kenna, how–ˮ

"I don't know," I replied stiffly, glancing briefly at the skin covering my body.

We made our way through the corridors of Penguin's place, using my fire to deal with any thugs we came across, until we finally burst through the front doors. The fresh air hit me hard; but the fire did not waver. "Bye," I said gruffly, turning to walk away.

"We aren't going to discuss this?" Edward questioned incredulously.

"I don't see what there is to discuss," I replied. With a relieved feeling, I noticed that we were being held not far from my hideout. It would only take about five minutes to walk; but the way Edward was going on, I was worried that he'd end up following me the whole way.

"Avoiding the problem will not extinguish it."

"Problem? What problem?"

"_This_ problem!"

"Oh, wow, thanks, I understand _perfectly _now."

"Kenna."

"Nygma."

"Stop calling me that!"

"It's your name."

"I told you to call me Edward."

"Why should I? Are we friends? Is that what this fucked up relationship is?"

"I – no – well, yes, but – you..." he trailed off into an awkward silence, which I decided not to disturb. Anything to make him leave me alone, to make this pain in my chest _stop_.

I was still on fire when we got to my hideout, and Edward followed me up the stairs and into the actual apartment, closing the door behind him. I kept walking, went into my bedroom, and slammed the door shut. My clothes were destroyed, burnt off my body, so I needed another outfit; but my skin was still on fire. _How the hell do I turn this __**off**__?!_

And like a switch had been flicked, the flames retreated within my body, leaving me standing there completely naked and rigid with emotion. He was here. He was in my home again. What the hell was I supposed to do with him now? I wanted to see him so badly; but seeing him _pained_ me to the point that it seemed physical.

_This has to stop. I am absolutely sick of being like this. Either he stays as the Edward I need, or he leaves to be the Edward I hate._

Angrily pulling on underwear, shorts, and a baggy top, I stormed over to my bedroom door and yanked it open. Edward was standing at the kitchen counter, his hands clasped in front of him, staring at the wall contemplatively. He really _was_ quite handsome, in my eyes, with his sharp, masculine features and his startling blue eyes. He was wearing the purple shirt that fitted him nicely, with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and a pair of smart black trousers. The mask, hat, and cane were nowhere to be seen.

I suddenly realised I'd been staring at him for a few minutes. "If you've got nothing to say, you can leave."

He started and looked over at me, briefly skimming over my body. I crossed my arms over my chest and quirked an eyebrow. "You're not on fire anymore."

"I thought you were supposed to be a genius?"

Unlike before, his expression remained calm, almost... _content_. "But I _am_ one – I've discovered a solution to our problem."

I glared at him. "For the last time: we don't have a problem!"

"Yes, we do."

"Oh, really?" He nodded in reply. "Enlighten me."

"You don't want to speak to me, or even see me."

"That's _your_ problem, not mine."

"But it is your problem."

"And how is it my problem, exactly?"

"Because, _really_, you _do_ want to see me, you _do_ want to talk to me."

"Yeah, keep telling yourself that."

"I have. That's why I was able to confront you – because I convinced myself you wished to interact with me as much as I did you."

I frowned at him; but was unable to retort. At that moment, the window next to me had smashed inwards, and a huge, black figure hurtled into me, slamming me onto the ground. Batman's masked head swivelled around, taking in the sight of my apartment. After a moment of stunned silence on my behalf, I managed to make an undeniably unattractive grunting noise. He looked down at me, confusion in his eyes. "I thought I saw a fire through the window," he said.

"That would have been me. Literally," I nodded, pushing him off.

He stood up and offered a hand; but I remained seated on the ground. "Alright," he said, nodding.

I frowned up at him. "Were you gonna... _save_ me?"

He held my gaze silently for a moment. "Of course I was."

"But I'm a criminal?"

"That doesn't mean you deserve to die."

I cocked my head to the side, sizing him up. _Doesn't seem like that bad a guy, now that I think about it._ I held out my hand, and he took it, helping me to my feet. "Well, uh... thanks, I guess." He tipped his head in acknowledgement, spun on his heel with a whirl of his cape, and jumped out through the window again. "That's not an everyday occurrence."

"Are you _sure?_"

I jumped at Edward's voice and whirled around to look at him, taking in his burning gaze and tense body. _How the fuck did I forget he was there?_ Then what he said registered in my mind, and I grew confused. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure."

"You looked _friendly_."

I frowned at him. "How can a criminal be _friendly_ with the Batman?" Selina popped into my head; but– _She's a completely different story._

"Having a taste of the forbidden fruit, are we?"

"_What_?"

"What is it you see in him? The muscles? The valiant mindset? The–ˮ

"Edward, what the fuck are you going on about?" I demanded incredulously. He stopped as soon as I said his name, and his body relaxed; but he offered no explanation. He just stood and looked at me. "Why are you here, Edward? What do you want?"

He smirked and pushed himself off the counter, his feet carrying him slowly towards me. _What's with the sudden confidence?_ "Did you solve my riddle, Kenna?" he asked quietly, coming to stand a foot from me.

"I was actually a little preoccupied, sorry, couldn't quite find the time," I snapped.

His smirk widened. "Perhaps I shall just have to show you?"

"_Or_," I growled, "You could tell me what you want and leave. I have no time for your riddles."

"But isn't it obvious?" he asked, taking another step closer as I took one back. He kept advancing until my back hit the wall.

"You're not exactly easy to read, you know," I replied quietly, my heartbeat picking up its pace.

"Neither are you, yet I can tell that you feel the same way as me."

_I'm getting tired of this._ "Just tell me what you want, Edward."

"I want you."

_Well, fuck._


	16. Chapter 16

**Sorry for the long wait again, guys! Not sure how I feel about this chapter... I'm pretty sure it's the end of this story; but I don't know if I've ended it well enough or not, so feedback would be good. Bleh I'm nervous. Might as well go for it, though. It's 2am, so forgive me if it's not up to the usual standard.**

**I hope y'all enjoy what little there is.**

**DISCLAIMER: I own nothing but Kenna.**

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**Chapter 16**

_The asshole has figured out how I feel and now he's using it against me. That's the only logical explanation._ _Come on, Kenna, regain control!_ I pushed myself off the wall and brushed passed him, muttering, "Bullshit." I went to the utility cupboard and produced a dustpan and brush. While I set to work on the broken glass, Edward – _still_ the gentleman – stood watching me. _Just like in the asylum when I dragged the drunken guard out my cell, he decides not to–_

Edward's skin brushed my own as he took the dustpan and brush out of my hands and set to work on the broken glass himself. I remained where I was, kneeling on the floor, gawping at him incredulously. He glanced at me out of the corner of his eye and smirked slightly. "You choose not to listen to me, so I'm attempting to show you, instead."

"Show me what?" I asked quietly.

He stopped for a moment and looked at me. "You may not be clever; but you're not _that_ stupid, Kenna." I rolled my eyes and walked away. "Did I say something to offend you?"

_God, he sounds like a seven-year-old. _"I'm fine with you insulting everyone else's intelligence; but the point that you're trying to make... it's not easy to see when you go and say shit like that."

He was quiet as I reached the counter and turned around to face him, pulling myself up onto the surface to sit on it. Then he spoke again. "Do you trust me, Kenna?"

_Yes_.

_Wait, what? Since when?_

_Since forever, dumbass._

"Kenna?"

"What does it matter?"

"If you trust me, you can believe what I'm trying to tell you."

I watched him silently as he stood, half-full dustpan in his hand, brush in the other, staring at me with an expression of tense anticipation. I suddenly felt as if the weight of the world was on my shoulders.

"Riddle me this: if you break me, I do not stop working. If you touch me, I may be snared. If you lose me, nothing will matter. What am I?" he asked softly, his gaze becoming intense. "Do you trust me, Kenna?"

So lost in his eyes, I only _just_ managed to get out: "One question at a time, please."

"Do you trust me?" he repeated.

The world seemed to stop. My breathing had ceased, my heart wasn't beating, and I couldn't move any part of my body. Nothing existed. Nothing except for Edward and I, and those beautiful blue eyes.

"Yes." It came out almost inaudibly, on the slightest of breaths; but apparently he heard it.

His eyes brightened considerably; he lowered the dustpan and brush; and his feet started taking tentative steps towards me. "And the riddle?" he asked.

I thought about it for a few seconds. Then realisation dawned on me, and I felt the fluttery feeling again, much stronger than ever before. "Your heart."

He was a foot away from me now – one step closer and he'd be positioned snugly between my legs.

"Do you believe me? Do you believe what everyone has been saying since the asylum?" he asked.

My heart was hammering against my ribcage, and I was unbelievably ecstatic; but there was just one thing wrong... I didn't want to risk believing him, and find out that it was all a lie. "I can't."

His face contorted first in confusion, then irritation, then anger. "_Why_?" he growled, taking that last step and getting right up in my face.

"It seems ridiculous."

"What reason have I to pretend?" he demanded. "Why can you not believe me?"

"Because it's just highly improbable, okay?"

"When you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth," he said.

"I'm not sure Sherlock's the best role model for you, Edward – he kind of catches the bad guys," I snapped. "And in case your _brilliant_ mind can't figure that out because you're too busy with _super-smart_ stuff: _you _are a bad guy, therefore he'd be _chasing_ you."

"I'd be glad to have someone of his intelligence take me in," he retorted. "I'd cherish his companionship."

"Then why don't you go make _him_ care for you against his will!" I exclaimed angrily.

He glared at me. "Because I only care about _you_ caring about me!"

"I must say, that was mighty eloquent for someone so intellectual."

"Why do you always seek to make our conversations end in aggressive conflict?"

"I don't do shit!" I scowled, offended. "You're the one that pisses me off all the time!"

"I can't frustrate you _all_ of the time if you have managed to develop feelings for me!"

"Who said I had?" I shouted.

"You did! Everything you do, everything you say, the way you react –they're clues to your emotions!

"You haven't been making assumptions have you?"

"Enough with this!"

"Oh, I'm just getting started," I chuckled darkly.

Edward slammed his hands down on the counter at my sides, leaning in so close I could feel his breath on my lips, tickling them, torturing me. "Of no use to one, yet absolute bliss to two. The baby's right, the lover's privilege. To the young girl, faith; to the married woman, hope; to the old maid, charity. What am I?" he demanded furiously.

My fingers were itching to reach up and grab him, my lips were tingling with anticipation, and my eyes were darting around his face, absorbing every detail.

"_What am I_?" he asked again.

I swallowed hard. "A kiss."

His eyes closed, and the next thing I knew, his lips were pressed against mine roughly, his hands clutching my waist. _How oddly out of character_, I mused. Then, with a mental slap to the head and the sudden lurching of my heart, accompanied by the fluttery sensation transforming into the thunderous beats of heavy wings, I closed my eyes, kissed him back, and brought my hands up to clutch his shirt.

One of his arms slid around my waist, pulling me into his chest, while the other hand rose up my back, resting between my shoulder blades. I let my own arms loop around his neck, my mind only focused on everything Edward at his sudden close proximity. He leaned in even more, if that was possible, and our lips moved against each other in what I assumed to be a clumsy fashion, given that neither of us had kissed someone in a very long time; but somehow that just made the whole thing that much better.

I wasn't sure if I could believe what was going on; however, I _did_ know one thing:

_Edward Nygma may go to great lengths to solve his puzzles; but seeing as though he hasn't dated someone in __**years**__, he wouldn't go as far as sharing a kiss with them._

I'd never remembered being so happy and complete before, and it was all because of him. For once in the surprisingly short amount of time I'd known him, I couldn't find anything to complain about. And, in terms of Edward Nygma, A.K.A The Riddler, that was most definitely saying something.

* * *

**Meh, okay. There it is.**

**Ugh I don't know.**

**Anyway, if I'm ever gonna write more about Kenna and Edward - which won't be for a while, if ever - then it'll probably be some one-shots. Maybe while I'm writing my Legolas/OC it would be nice for some more casual writing, so if you ever have any ideas for one-shots then feel free to suggest them and I'll take a look:)**

**If anyone's felt that the quality of this story has lessened as it progressed, I don't blame you, and you have my deepest, most sincere apologies. I feel like it kinda went to shit at the end. Maybe I'll come back and edit it somewhere along the line, because there's a lot of things I'd change about Edward (e.g. more riddles, and more intellectual words); but I'm done with it for now.**

**Fuck.**

**I'm really properly sorry if this has disappointed anyone and I hope you at least enjoyed the bits that weren't so shitty.**

**To everyone who reviewed, followed, favourited, and even just read:**** Thank you so, so, so much, seriously. You kept me motivated throughout this story and seeing all those emails from Fanfiction just made my year. I'm so happy and honoured to have recieved such positive and praising reviews on my first story - even if I didn't deserve them - and to have had such wonderful people sticking with The Phoenix. I think it's been like three months, or something; but it definitely feels a lot longer. I don't know how long it felt for those of you waiting for updates, and if it felt like ages, then I'm sorry.**

**To anyone that is possibly disappointed:**** I know I could have done a lot better, and I know that there are hundreds, thousands of better stories out there than mine, so if you're going to say something critical, then make it helpful rather than just insulting and unjustified. But, really, if you ****_do_**** feel this way, then... fuck, man, I'm so, so sorry. **

**Ok so I think I've wallowed in self-pity long enough.**

**I really hope that this story didn't bore you and that you had as much fun reading it as I did writing it. I also really hope that anyone interested will check out my Lord of the Rings story, Emberling, because I feel a lot more confident with that story and there's definitely a lot more thought put into it. So, yeah. Keep an eye out for Emberling updates and new stories; and thanks for sticking with Kenna all the way to the end.**

**I love you.**


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